Deflection
by quiethearted
Summary: A/U – Janeway,Seven and pals time travel to present day New York where Seven becomes the ultra-efficient assistant to Miranda Priestly. Miranda's enthralled, Andy is furious and Janeway can't figure out how it all got so out of hand so fast.
1. Introcorrected

**Title:** Deflection  
**Rating:** NC-17 (Aren't mine always?)  
**Warning:** Do not read at work. I mean it. This also carries the "Jazzy Alert." She requires this when there's gonna be angst. *G*  
**Pairing:** The options seem limitless. Mirandy/Seven, Janeway/Seven, Miranda/Andy, who knows? *shrug* Where's the fun in telling?  
**Length:** 50k+ ultimately, if I'm lucky.  
**Prompt:** based on a prompt by **kendokuschi** Here's the prompt: .com/dvlwears_#cutid1

**Summary:** A/U – Janeway, Seven and pals do a bit of time traveling to find out who's trying to erase Janeway's existence by altering the life of her ancestor, Miranda Priestly. Andy didn't walk away in Paris and she soon finds herself faced with the ultimate in perfection and efficiency, second assistant Seven. Miranda's enthralled, Andy's furious and Janeway can't figure out how this all got so out of hand.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Devil Wears Prada or Star Trek Voyager. If I did, things would be wayyyy different in both 'verses, but then, what would I write about? It's a quandary, I tell ya.

**A/N:** As always thanks to the world's greatest beta goddesses, JazWriter13, Gin_akasarahsmom, shesgottaread and Xenavirgin. You turn dross into gold and I love you for it.

**A/N2:** This is only the Prologue, a bit of a taste of what's to come. I don't normally post WIP's but Musegirl needs a kick in the butt and I thought a few folks breathing down her neck might get her moving. She's got a bad case of the "Bright and Shiny's" and keeps getting distracted by every pretty prompt that comes her way. This is what happens when you end up with a high femme muse with a short attention span.

**Dedication:** For my girl, who doesn't really like DWP, but patiently listens to hour upon hour of discussion about Mirandy and even reads my stories when I ask nicely. *G* It's always a challenge to produce something to hold your interest, Darlin'. Makes me a better writer. And also to the wonderful writers and betas of the Femmeslash Fiction Writers group. You guys rock! You keep me sane and keep Musegirl well fed and inspired. Now if you could just teach her some discipline. LOL I couldn't do it without you. Thank you.


	2. Prologue

As Andy Sachs walked towards the fountain in Paris, she looked down at the phone in her hand. _Miranda._ Her first instinct was, of course, to answer, but she mentally scoffed at the Pavlovian response. After all, the preceding months had trained her to ask how high on her way up each time Miranda had ordered her to jump. Though, since no one ever asked Miranda anything, Andy just aimed for the sky and hoped for the best as she leaped into the unknown. Her lips curved in rueful smile as she heard her mother's voice floating through her mind. _Just because Emily jumps off a cliff, does that mean you have to follow?_ Andy chuckled softly, the sound leaving a bitter residue in the crisp air. She hadn't actually jumped this time, more slipped and fallen, was still falling, deeper and deeper every day. Now she found herself deeply in love with her ferocious boss with no hope of ever hitting bottom. It was that which had driven her to walk away, using Miranda's treatment of Nigel as her excuse.

The events of the James Holt luncheon had forced her to see the negligent way Miranda treated her subordinates and how the Dragon Lady rewarded loyalty. How long would it be before Andy felt the lash of Miranda's betrayal? She blinked back tears, realizing that it would kill her heart when that happened. And it would happen. Miranda cared for nothing and no one outside of her children and _Runway._ They defined the extent of her world and her heart. The rest was superfluous and easily discarded, to be ground under a Prada-clad heel when it suited Miranda's whim.

Andy reached out to toss the insistent phone into the fountain, but hesitated just before releasing it.

"Careful. You wouldn't want to drop that nice phone in the water," a deep voice cautioned.

Andy glanced to where an older man sat on a bench nearby. Reluctantly, she brought her hand with the phone back to her side.

"No, I suppose not," she murmured.

He tilted his head to the side and observed her for a moment.

"American, huh? Nice change from all the French accents I've heard this week. Paris is nice, but I miss a good cheeseburger, myself. What about you?" His voice was warm and comforting with its soft Midwestern accent.

"Yeah, me too. This definitely isn't home," Andy admitted.

"So you here for work or vacation? I mean, if you don't mind me asking?" He smiled a warm, genuine smile that felt good after the events of the last eight hours.

"Work, or at least, it was work. I'm not sure if it's anything now."

"Work not going well, then," he guessed and nodded towards the crowd of reporters across the street. "You with that circus? Whatever it is they're wound up about, I'm sure it'll die down by tomorrow."

She had no idea what the next day would bring, nor the next hour. What it wouldn't bring, she realized, was Miranda in all her frigid, fiery glory, and in that moment Andy realized not seeing Miranda every day was a far worse concept than what the ruthless woman might later do to her heart. She sighed and glanced back to where the iconic white coiffure was just disappearing through the doorway across the square, a deep clinching feeling in her chest at the sight. Not being in Miranda's presence was a known and immediate detriment, whereas the events of some far off someday…

"It tends to be like that around my boss," Andy commented. "You don't know what's going to happen from moment to moment, but you know it'll turn bad soon enough."

He nodded in understanding. "Well, like they say, forewarned is forearmed. You can always prepare for the bad, protect yourself from the fall out."

The phone gave off its tone again, a certain stridence to the ringtone that only Miranda's calls could achieve. With a sigh Andy answered.

"Yes, Miranda…Just a breath of fresh air…Right…I'll be right there." Ending the call, Andy turned back toward the venue, and with an absent wave to the man, she hurried across the street as fast as her Jimmy Choo's would allow. _Well, forewarned is forearmed, as he said,_ she thought as she pushed her way through the milling reporters. She'd just have to fortify her heart as best she could against the day Miranda finally betrayed her as well. Andy never a doubted for a moment that such a day would come to pass.

Kathryn Janeway strolled into the conference room, sipping from the ever-present cup of steaming coffee. Settling into her accustomed chair, she mused on the fact that she truly loved the drink, the hotter the better, almost as much as she loved… Her eyes latched onto the svelte blonde that sat at the other end of the conference table, and the stalwart captain heaved a mental sigh before pushing the thought away. This was neither the time nor the place to become fixated on her strange fascination where the young woman was concerned. Janeway was convinced such thoughts were entirely inappropriate. Starfleet captains did not spend their time gazing at their much younger Astrometics officers. No matter how beautiful…luscious…voluptuous…sexy…delicious… Slamming a fist on the table, she clamped off that chain of thought, oblivious to the rest of her staff's startled movements. Suddenly aware they were all now sitting at attention, she flushed slightly and covered by starting the meeting.

"Well, let's get to it. B'Elanna, report," Janeway growled.

Having already read the morning reports, Janeway listened on autopilot while her mind drifted once again to its favorite forbidden topic. Seven was wearing the blue biosuit today, the one that made her eyes an even deeper shade that reminded Janeway of the Sea of Mars. It always gave her the urge to immerse herself in their depths as she often had done in those clear waters. Janeway could remember the way her heart had raced with excitement as she'd slid into those cerulean depths for the first time, much as it did now when she looked into Seven's eyes. The explorer in her couldn't help but be intrigued by the mysteries she saw there, just as the woman in her warmed to the sweet fragility that she often glimpsed.

Janeway clutched at her coffee cup as a wave of dizziness washed over her, the room seeming to recede from her consciousness for a moment before slamming back with shocking clarity. She couldn't suppress a gasp as she slumped back in her chair.

"Captain!" Seven's voice cut through Janeway's fog, concern clear in the tone.

"I'm fine, Seven," Janeway assured as she ran a hand over her face. "Maybe a bit too much caffeine. Quickly deflecting the rest of the staff before they could become too concerned by her actions, Janeway asked, "Tuvok, you were saying?" She wasn't at all surprised that Seven had been the first to react. The tall blonde was always the quickest to respond to any seeming difficulty her captain had. _Borg reflexes,_ Janeway thought as she often had, once again experiencing a warm feeling at being the object of Seven's attentions. But again, Janeway pushed the thoughts away. No, Seven was simply loyal to her new collective and its perceived queen, not to Kathryn personally. If those clear blue eyes seemed to be focused on her a bit more than they had in the past, it was only Seven's internal directive to ensure the safety of the collective and by extension its leader. It had nothing to do with Janeway as a person, a woman.

It was her last thought as the dizziness returned to pull her down into darkness.


	3. Chapter 1

Kathryn Janeway opened her eyes, blinking slowly as the Sea of Mars came into focus. _What? No. Seven. Seven's eyes. I was looking into them, thinking about the sea when…_

"What happened?" she rasped, breaking contact with the shimmering depths.

"You lost consciousness, Captain," the EMH informed her as he stepped into her line of vision while simultaneously running a medical tricorder over her body. "Your body seems to be in a slight state of temporal flux."

With a groan Janeway draped an arm over her eyes. She hated time travel. Really, really hated it. She could feel the headache beginning to pound at her temples.

"Has Chakotay scanned the ship?" she asked.

"Right here, Captain," his voice drew nearer. "No sign of temporal flux or subspace rifts anywhere else. It seems to be localized to you."

"How'd I get so lucky?" she snapped, not really expecting an answer. "Ideas? Theories?"

"It is possible the ship passed through an isolated tachyon eddy," Seven proposed. "Though no such radiation registered on the ship's scanners, Ensign Kim is continuing to scan this area of space in case we encounter more."

"Thank you, Seven." Janeway sighed and dropped her arm. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she sat up only to be hit by another wave of dizziness as soon as she stood up. She smiled her thanks as Seven steadied her.

The doctor continued to run his tricorder sensor over her.

"You seen to still be in a state of flux, Captain. It would be better if you remained in sickbay for the time being," he advised.

"Am I a danger to the ship?" Janeway growled.

"I can't say for sure, but no, I don't believe so," he admitted reluctantly.

"The crew?" she pushed.

"Again no."

"In that case, Doctor, I'll take your _recommendation_ under advisement," Janeway stressed the word making it clear she had no intention of remaining there. "In the meantime, I'll be in my Ready Room. Seven, Chakotay, you're with me." Yanking on the hem of her tunic to buy a moment while the world steadied, she strode from the room.

An exhausted Andy let herself into the Priestly townhome, moving as quietly as was humanly possible in four-inch stilettos on a highly-polished marble floor. She set the book on the appropriate table, positioning it as close to the center as possible before turning to hang the dry cleaning in the closet. She almost let a smile curl her lips at the sound of whispered voices on the stairs behind her back, but ruthlessly she fought it down. She had made her decision in Paris, and she was determined it would last more than three days. Guarding her heart against Miranda had to include placing the same barriers against her offspring. The twins were too much like their mother not to. Schooling her face into a bland expression, Andy turned, closing the closet door as she did so.

"I believe you two should be in bed," she kept her tone even and quiet, taking a page from Miranda's book.

The look of surprised mirrored on two identical faces let Andy know they hadn't expected such a cool greeting. For a moment her heart went out to them before she stomped on it with a sharply spiked heel.

"B-but Mom is at an event," Cassidy ventured.

"And she won't be happy to come home and find you aren't asleep. Back upstairs you go. I've had a long day, and I need to get home," Andy insisted. The twins had developed the habit of waylaying her on the nights their mother wasn't home for discussions on all manner of things that interested them. When they found out that Andy's parents had divorced when she was around their age, they'd had a million questions. Having been too young at the time Miranda's first marriage had fallen apart, they didn't remember their own parents splitting and so had all kinds of concerns about what to expect and how their lives would be in the aftermath if their mother's marriage to Stephen did the same. Andy had slowly become both confidante and friend, but that had to end now. She was Miranda's assistant, nothing more. In truth, she couldn't afford to be more, so whatever relationship she had with the twins could no longer continue. Not waiting for a reply, she forced the feeling of guilt from her heart and turned on her heel, exiting the townhouse.

"What did we do?" Caroline asked, a tremor in her voice and the sheen of tears in her big blue eyes.

"Nothing," Cassidy said with narrowed eyes. "I guess women are no different than men. They all leave eventually. "

"But Andy's not like that," Caroline attempted to deny as a single tear brimmed over and slid down her cheek. "Something's happened. It has to have. We have to find out what and fix it. Please, Cass, we have to."

Cassidy nodded stiffly. "And if the problem is Mom?"

"Then—then we'll just have to fix that, too," Caroline stated with a firmness that sounded a great deal like their mother.

"Delusion of grandeur much?" Cassidy asked with a bitter chuckle. Like anyone could _fix_ anything about their mother. "Let's go to bed. We'll figure it out tomorrow." She pulled her twin up by the hand and led her up the stairs with an arm slung around her shoulder.

The computer's chirping to announce a visitor at her door broke through Kathryn's concentration on the book she was reading. She had always had an affinity for the written word, but this particular volume had always been one of her favorites. A gift from her father, the flowing script was filled with the thoughts and emotions of a long deceased ancestor. One of a set of ten volumes, Kathryn had read this particular text so frequently over the years that she could recite long passages from memory, but tonight something seemed different. Kathryn couldn't remember the words leaving her with such a feeling of disquiet before. There was a tinge of bitterness to the words that she couldn't recall from previous readings. With a shrug she closed the book to call out.

"Come."

The doors slid open, and Seven stepped into the room, advancing to stand near the chair Kathryn lounged in.

"Captain, I wish to know if you are still experiencing the same symptoms," Seven stated assuming her habitual stance of parade rest.

Kathryn drew a slow breath, unsure for a moment how to respond. She had never liked to be perceived as less than fully in charge, believing that a captain should appear strong and unflappable at all times; however, Seven had proved the exception to more than one of Kathryn's personally held beliefs over the years. She gestured with the book in her hand calling Seven's attention to it.

"This is a journal, a diary of sorts, kept by one of my ancestors several hundred years ago. She was an exceptional woman. I've read these pages several times a year since before I entered the Academy. They've been a great source of comfort and strength to me over the years." Kathryn paused to gather her thoughts, glancing up to see Seven leaning her head to the side in that way she had that bespoke intense concentration. "Tonight I don't perceive the words in the same way, Seven. There's something off about them, a bitterness I don't remember being there before. Is it me, my perception, or has there actually been a change? I don't know."

Seven nodded once in understanding.

"I have continued my scans," Seven began by way of explanation. "I can find no further anomalies than those connected directly to yourself. " Her voice drifted off as if she were unsure of what to say next.

"Theories? Conjectures? I know you too well not to realize you have an opinion on this, so spill it," Janeway ordered, pushing herself to sit upright.

"I would prefer to have more facts," Seven hedged but gave in as her captain arched one elegant eyebrow. "It is possible that the variations are specific to you because only you are in a state of flux, that _you_ are the time anomaly."

Kathryn was silent for a moment as she reasoned out what Seven was saying. Her eyes widened slightly as she reached the inevitable conclusion.

"You think something has caused a change in the time line, that my existence is in question." The concept was unsettling to say the least. If her own life was being wiped away, what about her mother, Phoebe, or her father? How far back did the changes go? Family trees had so many branches; would it even be possible to find where the change had occurred? She instinctively rejected the idea and all its ramifications. "Surely, Ducane and _Relativity_ will set the time line back the way it should be, if there's been an intercession."

"If the deviation is subtle and the far-reaching effects benefit the future in some way or cause very little change to the future, it is conceivable that no correction would be made," Seven argued.

"So if they think it's preferable that I never existed, they'll let things go as they are," Kathryn murmured. And really, would that be such a bad thing? Without her, Voyager might never have become stranded, so many lives wouldn't have needlessly become lost. As if reading her thoughts, Seven interjected.

"Captain, the temporal distortions are localized to yourself as an individual. There is no change in Voyager or any of the other crew, no reports of unknown or past crewmembers appearing where they should not," her voice softened just the slightest. "It would seem Voyager and her crew are exactly where they are meant to be regardless of the existence of Kathryn Janeway."

Kathryn found the idea jarring. She had functioned for so long carrying the guilt of having been the sole cause of Voyager's being stranded in the Delta Quadrant that to think otherwise seemed mere smoke and mirrors. The wave of dizziness that swept her this time was from a far different source, the thought that the responsibility lay not with her but was fated to happen regardless of her involvement.

"There is more, Captain," Seven interrupted her thoughts. "There has been one additional source of the temporal signature. It seems that one other is directly affected by your not existing."

"One other?" Janeway questioned. Whose life could she have had such a profound impact on that the person too would cease to exist along with her? "Who is it, Seven?"

"Myself, Captain," Seven stated dispassionately. "It would seem that without your influence I would not now be aboard Voyager."

An icy chill ran down Kathryn's spine.

"How do we fix this?" she demanded without further thought.


	4. Chapter 2

Miranda Priestly finished another long string of orders she routinely gave to her assistants with a sharp, "That's all!"

"Right away, Miranda," Andréa responded before turning on her heel and striding back to her desk.

Fingertips drumming lightly on the desk's glass surface, Miranda watched her newly promoted first assistant walk away. Dissatisfaction twisted her lips before her neutral mask once more slid into place. It wasn't that Andréa wasn't good at the job - she was. Perhaps the best first assistant Miranda had ever had. The young woman had a knack for anticipating Miranda's every need. No, her job performance was not in question. When Emily had achieved her year in the position the previous month, Miranda had not hesitated to move her to Nigel's department and elevate Andréa.

It was more that the young woman simply no longer acted in the ways Miranda was used to anymore and hadn't been since their return from Paris five months earlier. To be more accurate, the change had taken place when Andréa returned from getting her "breath of fresh air" after the James Holt luncheon. Her new behavior seemed to be directed only toward Miranda herself. With everyone else, Andréa was her normal, friendly self, though perhaps she smiled just a bit less frequently. With Miranda though…well, there were no smiles at all. Andréa was polite, showing the proper deferment to her boss, but there were no more friendly greetings in the morning, no more soft smiles when their eyes met. In fact, Miranda could not remember the last time the young woman had met her eyes at all. She seemed to always be looking just beyond Miranda's shoulder.

Even her girls had noticed a change. Cassidy had commented on it the previous evening, stating that Andréa no longer took the time to chat with them when she dropped off the Book at night. Until that moment, Miranda had not been aware that her assistant had taken the time and made the effort to befriend her children. They missed that friendship, just as Miranda missed the smiles that had so frequently come her way in the past.

Rising, she moved to stand before the broad expanse of windows behind her desk, staring out at the city skyline. It was a pose she assumed whenever she found herself faced with a quandary to which no immediate solution was found. Miranda remembered standing in this same place while she decided how best to punish Andréa for invading the upper levels of her home, though in truth, it was more for interrupting the argument with Stephen and seeing Miranda during one of her more vulnerable moments. Miranda had never stopped to question herself as to why Andréa seeing her as anything but her usual strong, confident self had infuriated her so, putting it down to not wishing for her authoritative image to be besmirched; however, more and more she was questioning her reactions of late.

Andréa's behavior was perfectly professional, so why did it irritate her so? And why had the foolish girl withdrawn from the twins? It wasn't like Andréa to be unkind. Unless…was Andréa distancing herself from everyone named Priestly? It seemed the only answer. But why? Miranda's actions in Paris had been entirely necessary to ensure _Runway_ remained firmly under her own control. Nigel had long since forgiven her, especially once he had seen the ungainly horrors that James had insisted on using for his premiere men's line. Even Jacqueline had jumped ship after that, though her reputation had taken a direct hit first, effectively eliminating her from Irv's arsenal. Not that Miranda for a moment thought that the sneaky little man was done with his harassment. No, Irv might be licking his wounds momentarily, but he would be back. Like the fly that always seemed to appear in the house during the holidays, he'd continue to buzz around annoyingly until he was firmly squashed. Although she looked forward to that day, Miranda wanted to focus on the more pressing issue of what to do about Andréa Sachs because there was no way Miranda would allow things to continue as they were.

"New girl," Miranda called in her quiet voice, then waited a moment for the frazzled second assistant to make her way into the inner office before launching into a long string of instructions that would occupy her for the rest of the day, suiting Miranda's needs perfectly. With the second assistant out of the office, Andréa would be forced to interact with Miranda directly for the rest of the day.

Janeway sat on the couch in her ready room, sipping from a steaming mug of coffee. Her mind turned the situation this way and that, but to no avail. She knew the journal she'd been reading was different but couldn't quite put her finger on what was off about it. There was just a sense of bitterness that hadn't been there before. Then there was the issue of what exactly to do about it all. If it were just herself to consider, she'd do nothing. The loss of her own existence seemed to have little impact on the here and now, a fact that left her with a sense of disquiet. Had she really impacted on the lives of the people around her so little? Well, on everyone's lives but Seven's. The symptoms Seven had described to her were different than her own. Several smaller implants had become active and she was experiencing strange tingling in her extremities, something Janeway thought might be associated with the resurgence of her implants. It was clear Seven was at least somewhat reverting to her previous Borg state, but how far did it and would it go? Whatever the answer, Janeway wasn't willing to take the risk. She had to fix this. If not for herself, then for Seven.

The chirp of the door chime interrupted her musings, and Kathryn pinched the bridge of her nose as she granted permission to enter. She glanced up as Chakotay strode in the room.

"Kathryn, Harry says the scans have revealed a new source of the fluctuations," he began only to be cut off by Janeway.

"Seven. They're coming from Seven."

He hesitated a moment before continuing.

"Yes, that's what Harry told me. I understand Seven and B'Elanna are working on a plan to send you back to find the disruption in the timeline. Are you sure that's the best idea?"

Janeway studied him for a moment before answering.

"Best idea? No, I'm not sure at all," she said before taking a healthy swig of coffee. "But it's the one I'm going with. Whether I exist or not, Seven has lost enough. The Borg do not get her back."

He nodded, one corner of his mouth turning up in a wry smile.

"I thought as much. You have a tendency to go flying in where Seven is concerned."

"She's a valued member of this crew," Janeway's voice held a warning tone. She really disliked his tendency to be willing to sacrifice Seven to the given threat of the moment.

Chakotay held his hands up, palms out, in a disarming manner. "I'm not saying she's not and in this case I agree with you in principle if not in theory. You've had an effect on a great many lives just since I've known you. There's no way to know all the minute ripples that could come from this."

Nodding her agreement, Janeway set her coffee down and dropped her head against the back of the couch.

"I wish I was surer about where to intervene. I have a set of journals that have been in the family for centuries. Not diaries exactly, more a collection of turning points in different people's lives. It's become something of a tradition to keep one. The problem is a person doesn't often realize they've reached a turning point until after the fact." She lifted her head to fix him with a worried glance. "I can tell where the accounts suddenly began to feel different with me, but not when the instigating event occurred exactly."

Chakotay nodded as he sat down on the couch a short distance away. He rubbed his fingers over his tattoo, a habit he'd developed when deep in thought.

"Put Seven on it. She found your other ancestor, Shannon O'Donnell. "

Janeway lifted her head and nodded. She'd had that thought herself, but hadn't wanted to add to Seven's workload. Still, with her single-minded approach, she would be the most likely person to pinpoint the exact date they needed.

"Good idea. I'll talk to her about it. Once we know _when_ we're going, we'll be better able to plan the details." She dropped her head into her heads and groaned. "I _hate_ time travel."

Miranda Priestly was seething. Her second assistant was setting all new records for errands run in the fastest time while tottering around on four-inch heels and Andréa was still managing to avoid looking directly at her. As Miranda strode from her office and through the halls of _Runway,_ staff members were dived for cover, trying to avoid becoming the focus of her ever-growing ire. She stalked into Nigel's office with the subtly of a hurricane.

"What is wrong with that girl?" she hissed furiously.

Nigel very deliberately placed his pen down and drew off his glasses.

"And 'that girl'" would refer to?" he asked, being the one person at _Runway _who could survive asking Miranda anything.

"Andréa, of course," she snapped while delivering up a withering glare.

"Ah," Nigel nodded suddenly seeming to have a clearer picture, but irritatingly needing more details, as deomonstrated by his follow-up question. "What exactly has she done? Messed up your schedule? Coffee not hot enough? Insulted an important designer?"

"Well, no," Miranda admitted, suddenly feel rather foolish. "She's been remarkably competent and efficient."

"Then what has you flying through the hallways and frightening the minions?"

Miranda couldn't suppress a tiny, evil curl to her lips as she envisioned clackers diving under desks, but it was wiped away by the thought of a certain brunette who neither dived, nor appeared to notice.

"She's being…" Miranda halted, not quite sure how to describe exactly what Andréa had been.

"Being what, Miranda?" Nigel nudged gently.

"Not….nice," she finished helplessly, feeling even more foolish.

Propping an elbow on a folded arm, Nigel rested his chin on his thumb and stroke his cheek with a forefinger. "Nice? You mean she's been rude?"

"No, not rude exactly. Just not..." Irritated that she couldn't phrase what she was perceiving accurately, Miranda changed tacks. "Really, Nigel. How do I know what she's not been? That's why I came to you. You're Andréa's friend. What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know exactly," Nigel admitted. "But if I were willing to hazard a guess, I'd say that what's wrong with Six…is _you_."


	5. Chapter 3

"Me?" Miranda stared at him as if he'd suddenly appeared clad in dustbin rejects.

"Yes, Miranda, you. " Nigel rubbed his eyes. "Most things boil down to you with Andy."

"What could I possibly have done to her?" she asked astonished.

Risking an eye roll, Nigel sighed. "Let it go, Miranda. Andy is doing her job. You have no complaints about that. The rest will work itself out or not, but either way it shouldn't affect anyone's performance here."

Feeling thoroughly chastised and not liking the emotion in any way, Miranda drew her spine up into a rigid line. "Are you implying I'm behaving unprofessionally?"

"No, I'm saying if you continue this, you will. There is nothing in Andy's job description that requires her to smile at you." He laughed as her eyebrows shot upward. "Oh, yes, I've noticed. Everyone has noticed, but most write it off to the natural reaction to working so closely with the Dragon Lady."

Miranda sniffed at the epithet. "If she's so unhappy, why does she stay?" she asked. It made no sense for Andréa to remain where she was miserable; her own three divorces proved that.

Nigel fiddled with the pen lying before him. "Perhaps she believes that in a different way she'd be even more unhappy elsewhere."

"Must you be so oblique? Simply say what you mean, Nigel," she huffed, crossing her arms defensively.

"You're getting as good as you're giving, Miranda. Be happy with that or change it. It's up to you." Picking up his pen, he went back to work.

Staring wide-eyed at the man who had just effectively dismissed her, Miranda spun on a heel and stalked out. Nigel had become much too familiar since Paris. He didn't seem at all concerned with being fired, and Miranda couldn't bring herself to re-instill that fear in him. What did he mean she was giving as good as she was getting? She was acting no differently toward Andréa than she ever had. It was Andréa that had changed, not her. She stopped in the hallway as a thought occurred to her, oblivious to the fact that everyone around her had paused as well. Was it possible that Andréa had adapted to Miranda? Was she reflecting back what she perceived Miranda wanted in an assistant? Yes, that had to be it. Well, Miranda would just have to change that attitude immediately, but how best to do so? Musing on the problem she started walking again, heading back to her office and her next meeting.

Janeway gripped the back of her chair as another wave of dizziness struck her. She took a slow, deep breath and waited a moment for it to pass before seating herself at the head of the conference table.

"All right, people, let's begin. Some of you already know pieces of this. I seem to be in a state of temporal flux. It would appear that someone or something is altering the timeline of my ancestry. There doesn't appear to be any far-reaching effects as far as Voyager or the majority of you are concerned, though Seven is having similar episodes." She glanced at Seven for confirmation only to find herself interrupted.

"That is incorrect, Captain," Seven glanced away uncomfortably.

"Well, yes, you're experiencing a slight resurgence of your implants," Janeway conceded. She narrowed her eyes as the normally cool blonde seemed to fidget under her observation. "What aren't you telling me, Seven?"

The doctor cleared his throat. "Perhaps I can make it clearer for you, Captain. Seven is experiencing a re-awakening of certain dormant implants, but that isn't the greatest concern. It seems the musculature of her limbs is atrophying. "

"Why?" Janeway snapped, irritated that she was just now finding this out.

"The tissue appears to be decomposing, Captain," the EMH offered by way of explanation.

"How does living tissue just suddenly start decomposing?" She growled as her heart clutched in her chest. Was it possible Seven was dead in the altered timeline? She couldn't bear the thought.

The doctor glanced at Seven who gave a small nod in return.

"There are alterations in the cells throughout Seven's body with the exception of the head, shoulders, brain and spine, the core of the central nervous system," he rushed to explain.

"Why would those areas not be affected?" B'Elanna wondered aloud.

It was Tuvok who responded to her query.

"Because that is the only living tissue remaining in a Borg Queen," he stated in his clipped tones.

Janeway clamped her mouth closed on a gasp as her coffee threatened to make a re-appearance from her roiling stomach.

Andy fidgeted with her bangs, irritated with the way they brushed against her eyelashes. She really needed to get them trimmed and had planned to go snag one of the hairstylists today to get it done on one of her trips through that department. That was, she'd planned to do so before Miranda had chained her to the desk for the day.

It was now after 3:00, and Andy hadn't even managed to grab a snack much less lunch. She had been running late this morning so had skipped breakfast to make up the time. Not being a person who could go the entire day without eating, she grew more irritable as her blood sugar dipped, and the room seemed to echo the rumblings of her empty stomach. If she didn't get something to eat soon, Miranda would have to step over her unconscious body to get to the next meeting. That was assuming she noticed Andy lying on the floor at all. Perhaps that was the Dragon Lady's goal for the day, to push Andy into a state of collapse. If so, Miranda could do a victory dance shortly.

Andy's eyes narrowed at yet another perceived example of Miranda's lack of concern for her as a person. The hollow feeling in her stomach inched upward toward the vicinity of her heart, her full lips thinning as they pressed tightly together. It was all just more proof that Andy was right in locking away any tender feelings toward one Miranda Priestly.

Women could clearly not be trusted to value another's heart. It was a recurrent theme in Andy's life. First her mother had walked away as if her daughter had meant nothing to her. Then her best friend Lily had turned her back on Andy as if their lifetime of friendship was of less value than Lily's three-year friendship with Nate. How could Andy expect Miranda to be any different? The truth was that she couldn't. Miranda was perhaps the most honest of the three. She didn't even pretend to care. The best thing Andy could do was appear to feel the same and by not showing any sign of caring for Miranda.

Janeway grabbed at the table as the strongest wave of dizziness yet rolled over her, darkening her vision. She fought to stay conscious, locking her eyes on the person in front of her as a point to focus on. That it was Seven only helped to rivet her attention, especially as she saw Seven clench and shake her fully human hand as if experiencing a sudden pain or loss of sensation. With steely resolve, Janeway forced away the darkness until she could draw a cleansing breath.

"I want solid plans for correcting the alteration to the timeline. You have three hours, then I want everyone back here. Dismissed," she snapped. "Seven, I need to talk to you for a moment."

After the room had cleared, Janeway sat for a moment allowing her mind to clear.

"You felt it, too," she said at length.

"Yes, Captain. It was as if my hand wasn't there for a moment, and then just as suddenly it was."

"Whatever is happening in the past, it's not a sudden occurrence. It's something insidiously making small changes here and there to achieve a final outcome," Janeway mused.

"I believe you are correct. It will make it more difficult to undo," Seven said.

Janeway nodded. "Assuming we can find the right time period in the first place." She slid a data padd along the table to Seven. "This is a copy of that set of journals I told you about. The change I mentioned occurs in the third volume in late 2005 or early 2006. See if you can pin the date down any more specifically than that."

Picking up the padd, Seven rose. "Yes, Captain," she said and started for the door only to stop and turn back. "I am going with you." It was clearly not a question.

With a sigh, Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose. What choice did she really have? It was Seven's life, too.

"Yes, Seven, you're going, too," she acquiesced.

With a nod Seven strode out, already engrossed in the contents of the data padd.


	6. Chapter 4

Janeway paced her ready room too agitated to even stop for coffee. Seven would be the Borg Queen if she failed. She fought the rising nausea that occurred each time she allowed that thought to surface. Her beautiful Seven carved down to a brain and spinal column to control the collective. She balled her fist wanting to strike out at something…someone. With a growl low in her throat, Janeway stalked across the room and flung herself on the couch. She would fix this, and if she got her hands on the ones responsible, they would pay dearly for threatening Seven with this horrible mutilation of self and individuality.

"Come," she snarled as the door chime sounded.

The panel slid back to admit B'Elanna, who moved into the room with a hesitance unknown in her half-Klingon personality.

"Yes, B'Elanna?" Janeway sighed and rubbed her eyes. It wouldn't do to take her frustrations out on those around her.

"I think I've found a way to get a shuttle craft to move backwards through time. The only thing is…it may be a one-way journey and I'm going, too," B'Elanna stated raising her chin in a no-nonsense manner.

Janeway studied her, deciding which statement to broach first. She elected to take on the one which seemed the least incendiary.

"Why one way?"

"We can use the main deflector to open a rift just wide enough for a shuttle to get through. Seven's knowledge of subspace corridors should help us pinpoint the location. We can't hold it open indefinitely. Just long enough for the shuttle to get through. The problem becomes when to open it to let the shuttle back. There's really no way to know, and the main deflector may not withstand more than two attempts," B'Elanna finished.

Janeway nodded and rubbed at the tension in the back of her neck preparing to tackle the next issue.

"I appreciate your concern, B'Elanna, but Voyager needs you here in case the main deflector overloads during one of the attempts."

"I assume that Seven is going because this directly affects her," B'Elanna stated not waiting for Janeway to nod. "Well, this is affecting me as well, not in the same way as the two of you, but still affecting me. I keep having these flashes. I find myself either deferring to Carey as if he were my superior or standing in the Brig. I snapped at Harry for saying good morning. I almost hit Tom. It's like for a moment they weren't my friends anymore, and never had been."

Janeway gestured for the other woman to sit and rubbed her hands over her face. How much worse could this get? How many more would be affected?

"I didn't think I had that direct an influence on your life," she mused and almost smiled as she realized that wasn't the first time she'd expressed the same thought recently.

B'Elanna rested clenched fists on her knees. "You took a chance on a volatile, rebellious half-breed and made her your chief engineer. I've grown from being that person because of your trust in me. Without it, I don't think I would have been in as good a place. From the flashes I'm getting, I know I wouldn't have."

Reaching over and resting a hand on one tight fist, Janeway smiled.

"I think you underestimate yourself, B'Elanna. As for your going on the away team, an engineer might come in handy, though we'll have to do something about hiding your ridges. There aren't too many Klingons in early twenty-first century North America."

B'Elanna laughed, easing up on the tension in her hands.

"Or Borg drones," she joked. "I was thinking about that. A small Holo-emitter disguised as a piece of jewelry should cover Seven's implants. As for me, I think the doctor should be able to fix things with a dermal regenerator. Speaking of the doctor, he had me come down and check on possible glitches in his program. It seems he's noticing pieces of his program missing at times, and then they are suddenly back."

Janeway chuckled a bit cynically. "Don't tell me. Pieces that he's added since I gave him autonomous control of his program."

B'Elanna grinned and nodded. "Guess you affect lives in more ways than you realize."

"And I suppose he wants to come along, too," Janeway said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, he is directly affected, and Seven really should have him around. Not to mention I can't exactly go to the nearest medical facility if there's a problem," B'Elanna continued to make her case.

Janeway held up her hands in defeat. "All right, all right! The four of us, but no one else, no matter how directly this impacts them. Get to work on making the changes to the deflector. Get Seven to help you. I want to go as soon as possible."

B'Elanna rose and headed for the door only to be called back.

"And, B'Elanna, find us a way back," Janeway said, mindful of what being stuck in the twentieth century had done to Captain Braxton.

"Aye, Captain," B'Elanna agreed and swung around to stride through the door.

Emily blew through the door of Nigel's office not unlike Miranda had done earlier that day.

"What in bloody hell is going on with Miranda and Andrea?" she demanded.

Sighing, he flung his pen onto the desk. How was he supposed to get any work done today with these constant interruptions? Grabbing a tissue, he removed his glasses and began to clean them.

"Emily, exactly what concern is it of mine or yours whatever might be happening with them?" He didn't wait for an answer but barged ahead. "Has it affected our lives in any way up to now? Made more work for us? Interfered with doing our jobs?" He paused and waited for an answer.

"Well, no, but—" she began only to be cut off.

"No! That's right. It hasn't. So why concern ourselves with it?"

"Because Miranda just tossed the entire Valentino shoot since the tide was going out instead of coming in," she informed him smugly.

Throwing up his hands, Nigel felt like tearing out his hair, and he would have if he had any hair to tear.

"That was a $120,000 shoot! It will cost more than that to replace it, and _she's_ the one who said to do it during low tide!"

"Mmmmm, yes…so, I repeat, what's going on with them?" Emily pushed.

Nigel dropped his face into his hands and sighed."I don't know," he said, voice muffled in his palms. "I honestly don't know, but it started in Paris. That much I'm sure of. Miranda did something, or said something, and Andy will not forgive her for it."

"So what do we do about it?" Emily wanted to know.

He shook his head sadly. "There's nothing we can do except wait for them to work it out and hope the entire magazine isn't destroyed in the process."


	7. Chapter 5

Kathryn Janeway sat in the pilot's chair of the Delta Flyer waiting to give the order for the rift to be opened. It had finally been decided that they would have one week and then the rift would be opened again. If the away team wasn't in place to come back through at that time, they'd be stranded in the past. It wasn't an ideal solution, but it was the best they had. Seven had narrowed the time frame Janeway gave her to as close an approximation as she could determine with the information she had. She had studied the recorded history of the time and thought she had even found a way to get them close to Janeway's ancestor without raising suspicion. Janeway looked back over her shoulder at her small crew.

B'Elanna sat at the Engineering station making last minute adjustments to the Flyer's deflector array and synchronizing with Harry on board Voyager. Seven's hands flew over the board of the Tactical station inputting trajectory and speed information in long strings of complex calculations to control the subspace conduit that would take them to an exact time and location.

"Everyone ready?" Janeway asked and waited for their responses.

"Aye, Captain," B'Elanna responded immediately.

Seven finished a lengthy stream of numbers and symbols before nodding. "Yes, Captain. I am ready."

With a smile at her Borg's phrasing, Janeway turned back to her console. "Let's do it then. Voyager, engage deflector."

A blinding white beam shot through the darkness of space and struck a fixed point where a rift began to shimmer and slowly widen.

"Taking us in," Janeway advised as she maneuvered the small craft towards the ever-widening tear in space and time.

There was a bright, blinding flash, and when it cleared, Voyager hung alone in the inky blackness while its crew murmured prayers to various deities for their friends' safe return.

Andy cleared the baggage area in record time and strode through the sliding glass doors of the airport while pulling her small suitcase along behind her. Reaching the passenger pick-up area, she stood off to the side and looked around for a familiar face or vehicle. Seeing neither, she made her way to bench and sat down to wait. She really hadn't given anyone much notice about her impromptu trip, least of all Miranda.

The previous evening, after Miranda had left for the day, Andy had sat at her desk waiting for both her co-worker to return from the last round of errands or the Book to arrive, whichever came first. The more she thought about the events of that day the angrier she had become. Not once in the interminably long day had Miranda made any effort at all for Andy to get away from that desk for even five minutes. Oh, she hd called Andy into her office often enough and had given her endless instructions, making sure each time to insist she execute them from her desk under Miranda's watchful eye. It was ridiculous! Were it not for Serena and Nigel, Andy would never have even had a chance to get to the bathroom. They'd come into the office every few hours and carried on a contrived conversation ostensibly with Andy who used the time to slip into the ladies room. On one such visit, Serena had slipped her an apple and a package of crackers along with a note saying the food was from Emily who didn't dare come near the office in case Miranda tried to chain her to the other desk. It wasn't until Miranda left for the day that Andy felt safe stepping away from her desk without some form of subterfuge.

As she'd sat there at the end of the day, Andy had realized that she could not go through another day of this new, unique torture Miranda had devised. She had typed up her resignation with the intention of giving it to Miranda along with the Book. A short time later, after the second assistant had dropped off her final collections and gone home, Andy had left the building and hurried toward the car where Roy had held the door for her. Just before she reached the car, she'd collided with someone, sending the Book and her bag to the sidewalk. Bending to pick up the items, she'd looked up and was surprised to see the man from the square in Paris kneeling to help her.

"Hey, don't I know you?" she asked, then realized how that might sound. "I mean, you were in Paris not long ago, right? On the bench near the fountain?"

"Well, hello, again," he said, smiling pleasantly. "Yes. As they say, it's a small world."

"Yeah, I guess so," Andy agreed, though it felt a bit strange to be seeing him again.

"Things quieted down around that boss of yours, I hope," he continued, handing Andy the Book.

Andy's lips twisted in a bitter smile. "Nothing is ever the way you want it to be with Miranda," she responded cryptically.

He nodded as if he understood perfectly, though Andy didn't know how he could. "Well, you strike me as a strong young woman. I'm sure you're up to the task." With another nod, he excused himself and continued on his way.

Andy stared after him for a moment before Roy cleared his throat, diverting her attention. She ducked into the car and fastened her seatbelt. While Roy shut the door and rounded the car to take his place behind the wheel, Andy thought about what the man had said. She was strong, strong enough to get through whatever Miranda chose to dish out. She flipped open the Book and stared at the envelope that held her resignation. Giving it to Miranda was a little too much like giving in and admitting defeat. No, Andy wasn't going to lose. She'd make her year and then walk away, dignity intact. With a determined move, she tore the envelope in half, crumpled it and stuck it in her bag. She'd get out of this with her heart intact, and Miranda would not win.

When the car pulled up in front of the townhouse, Andy gathered the Book and the dry cleaning that Roy had picked up earlier. She was in and out in moments, leaving no time for anyone to waylay her. Though she thought she heard a faint call of "Andréa" as she closed the front door behind her, Andy kept going. The last thing she wanted was to see Miranda tonight. She needed time to regroup and decide how to handle the next few months. She needed to get away, and the safest place she could think of was at home with her dad. Pulling out her phone, she went online and began to search for a flight.

Just as they exited the rift, Janeway felt the world around her begin to spin. She gripped the board in front of her while trying to hang on to consciousness.

"Seven! Take the helm!" she gasped.

"I can…not, Cap…tain. I am mal..func…tioning." Seven responded brokenly.

"B'Elanna!" Janeway called to the engineer.

"P'taq! I don't answer to you!" B'Elanna snarled.

"Computer, activate Emergency Command Hologram. Authorization Janeway Omega three," Janeway whispered a moment before she lost consciousness.

"Please state the nature of …," the EMH began as he came online. As command procedures surged through his program, his uniform changed to red and he moved to the helm and assessed the situation. They had exited the rift with the Sun between them and the Earth to hide their appearance since their cloaking technology could not be activated while in the rift. The shuttle was now hurtling toward the Sun. As he reached for the helm control to divert their path, a snarling half-Klingon jumped on his back.


	8. Chapter 6

"I'm sorry to do this, Lieutenant, but I don't believe the Captain planned to land this shuttle on the sun," the doctor said as he reached up and performed a Vulcan neck pinch on B'Elanna. As she slumped unconscious, he lowered her to the floor and reached to input a new course heading. Satisfied that they were in no danger of being immolated as the Flyer slowed to a stop and held steady in space, he reverted to EMH mode and, turning to the captain, assessed her for injuries. Retrieving a hypospray, he pressed it to her neck and waited a moment, until she began to come around.

"Just rest for a moment, Captain. I need to see to Seven and Lieutenant Torres." He moved away to give Janeway a few minutes to herself while he checked on the others.

"We were headed for the sun," Janeway commented.

"I managed to stop us in time, though Lieutenant Torres had other ideas. I'm afraid she's going to have quite the headache when she awakens," he advised.

"You knocked her out?" Janeway guessed, leaning her head on the back of her chair.

"Vulcan neck pinch. She was in full Klingon battle mode. I thought it the safest choice."

Janeway turned her chair to face him and nodded her agreement. "Is Seven all right?"

"I am…functioning, Captain," Seven answered her. "I was not able to control my extremities at that moment."

Rubbing a hand over her eyes, Janeway sighed. "We can't keep having these episodes. Two of us collapsing and B'Elanna attacking the nearest person is going to get us noticed."

Seven began to input data into her console. "I believe I have narrowed the incidents to an ancestor who lived in New York City. She was quite a prominent figure in the fashion industry. According to the journals you gave me certain events that should have happened on this date now have not. I will have landing coordinates for us in a moment, Captain. I have engaged the cloaking device and shifted our orbit sufficiently to allow me to access various city records."

B'Elanna chose that moment to groan loudly. "Kahless, my head hurts! What hit me?"

"Nothing _hit_ you, Lieutenant," the doctor replied. "I merely rendered you unconscious for a moment."

"I hope you had a damn good reason, or I'm going to program you the same headache," she snapped.

Janeway's lips curled in a small smile as she shook her head at the irascible engineer. "It was that or fly straight into the sun, B'Elanna."

B'Elanna rolled her eyes and climbed to her feet rubbing her neck. "That's a pretty good reason. I take it we had another episode?"

"You are correct, B'Elanna Torres. I am now inputting landing coordinates. There is a building that is being renovated near the office where the captain's ancestor works. Work was suspended on this building for a period of six months. There is a helicopter landing pad on the roof. Security guards perform a routine check of the lower floors of the building twice a day, but do not include the roof," Seven advised as she continued to input data.

"So how do we get close to this multi-great grandmother of yours?" B'Elanna asked the captain as she moved to the engineering station and began to engage the cloaking device.

Janeway gestured to Seven to answer the question.

"According to the journals and Starfleet's historical database, Captain Janeway's ancestor is named Miranda Priestly. She is the editor-in-chief of _Runway_ magazine, a monthly periodical. It would appear that Miranda Priestly requires a new assistant on a regular basis. Extrapolating from her previous actions, I believe she will dispense with the current one some time today. I have placed a 'resume' for myself in the databanks of the company. I will have an 'interview' in the next two days," Seven finished as she turned to look at B'Elanna. "I have established credentials for the captain and yourself in the fashion industry as well. Captain Janeway will be a photographer, well-known in her field but not connected to fashion as of yet. You will be her assistant."

"A photographer's assistant," B'Elanna huffed. "That's the best you could do?"

"No, it is the best _you_ could do," Seven corrected. "You are not tall enough to be a model by the prevailing standard. You lack the necessary maturity for Miranda Priestly to trust you as a photographer for _Runway_ and you do not have the skills to work within the magazine in any capacity that would involve interaction with the editor-in-chief."

"Borg, so help me," B'Elanna began.

"B'Elanna, I'd prefer you with me," Janeway said quietly to head off the argument that was brewing between the two women. It seemed to work since they both stopped bickering.

Emily whirled into Nigel's office and ducked down below the half-glass wall.

"Is there a reason you're in hiding, Emily?" he drawled, looking over his glasses at her from where he stood before a light board.

"Shhhhhhhh," she cautioned, flapping both hands at him. "She'll hear you."

"I'm assuming by 'she' you mean Miranda," Nigel guessed.

"Yes! She's got her bleedin' knickers in a twist. Andrea is out, and the second is about to slash her own wrists, if she doesn't go for Miranda's throat first. I will _not_ be chained to that desk again!" Emily rose to peek over the solid half of the wall. "Bloody hell! Here she comes!" She duck-walked across the room and hid under Nigel's desk.

He calmly turned back to the images he was studying only to be interrupted again by Miranda.

"Where is Emily?" she demanded.

"I'm hiding her under my desk," he responded while leaning forward to study a particular picture a bit closer. "I think Antoinette has the belt on upside down in this one."

"I do not care if _Antoinette_ is upside down. Does no one work in these offices anymore?" Miranda sniped.

Nigel placed a large X over the image with his pen and began to study the next one. "I believe one would call what I am doing working."

"Yes, yes, yes," she waved him off. "Then you are a majority of one. Andréa has deserted me, the new girl is completely worthless, and no one seems to know where Emily is. What am I supposed to do? Answer the phones myself? Run my own errands? I haven't had fresh coffee in over an hour. This day is a complete disaster." She stalked out without waiting for an answer.

Nigel smiled to himself and continued what he was doing. "You can come out now, Emily. She's gone."

Crawling out from under the desk, Emily fixed him with an accusing glare. "You told her where I was!"

He glanced at her before putting an X over another image. "The point is not that I told her. The point is whether she believed me, which she did not. I would suggest you find a new place to hide before this one becomes 'the last place she looks.'"

With a squeal Emily scurried out, and Nigel chuckled to himself. Just another day at _Runway_. He paused for a moment as he thought of Miranda's interesting choice of phrasing over Andy's absence. Deciding he'd have to keep a closer watch on that situation, he reached for his phone and sent a quick text. Andy seemed perfectly healthy the day before, and he doubted she'd suddenly been stricken with an illness sufficiently bad to keep her from work. Andy was never sick, unlike most of the other women who worked there. There were some benefits to eating it seemed. Something else had kept Andy away today, and Nigel intended to get to the bottom of it.


	9. Chapter 7

Andy sat at the table with her father, listlessly pushing around the lunch he had made them. She forced herself to take a bite; she was losing far too much weight. If she didn't make more of an effort to eat, she'd soon be the new zero as opposed to the new two, which was really a four anyway and only served to make her think of the person who dictated all the intricacies of size and perfection, Miranda. That thought brought her back to pushing her food around on the plate.

"Want to tell me about it?" Richard Sachs asked as he watched Andy play with what was normally one of her favorite meals. "I know my cooking hasn't gotten that bad in the last year."

Giving up the pretence of eating, Andy laid her fork down with a sigh. "I've made a big mistake, Dad," she said in a tremulous voice.

Following suit with his own utensil, Richard tried to reassure her. "It can't be that bad, Andy. Maybe I can help."

Propping her elbows on the table, Andy dropped her face in her hands. "It's huge, enormous. The stupidest thing I've ever done," she lamented, her voice muffled by her palms. "I fell in love with Miranda."

Richard laughed, sure his daughter was joking. "Seriously, Andy, what's wrong?"

Andy groaned and raised her face to stare at her dad, unhappiness etched in every feature. "I am serious. I'm in love with Miranda Priestly, which is the height of futility since she'll never look at me sideways." The more she thought about it the angrier Andy got. "I mean, you should have seen what she did to Nigel in Paris. She just crushed his dreams with no thought for anyone or anything but her beloved _Runway. _I don't think she's even _capable_ of loving anyone, except her daughters, of course. _Them_, she adores. The rest of us are merely useful. We'd better stay that way, though, or she'll trash us first chance she gets. I doubt she even _has_ a heart."

With the hint of a smile curling one corner of his mouth, Richard folded his napkin and laid it beside his plate before leaning forward earnestly. "Andy, I know you, and you could never love her if that were true. I can't say I'm happy with the situation, but the heart wants what it wants. I've never known it to ask anyone's permission first. You've evidently seen something in Miranda that the rest of us haven't. So why don't you tell me what's really got you scared?"

"She'll never love me back, Dad," Andy whispered, tears shimmering in her large brown eyes. "I just have to get over it and get through the rest of my year. Then I can start making a new life for myself far away from Miranda Priestly."

He nodded, reaching over to lay a hand over one of her smaller clenched fists that now rested on the table. "I suppose you're the best judge of that," he admitted thoughtfully. "But are you _sure_ you're right?"

Andy's face hardened as her resolve came to the fore. "She's no different than Mom or Lily. Miranda has no more heart than they do. I _won't_ be involved with someone like that, no matter what I might feel right now. If you'll excuse me, I didn't sleep much last night. I think I'll lie down for a while."

Richard nodded and watched as she left the room, her food basically untouched. This time it was he that held his face in his hands. He knew Andy had taken her mother's leaving hard, but he'd never realized just what it had done to her sense of trust until this moment. Lily's desertion evidently hadn't helped the situation at all. Now to find herself in love with a woman who by all appearances was unable to maintain a romantic relationship had to be an unbelievable stressor for Andy. That she wasn't eating was clear and worried Richard a great deal. It was a repeated behavior that concerned him. After Rachel, Andy's mother, had left, Andy had almost had to be hospitalized due to malnourishment. She had reacted in a similar way over Lily's desertion, though not to that extreme. If his daughter really was in love with Miranda Priestly and felt the situation to be as hopeless as she expressed, she might actually starve herself. It wasn't simply that Andy didn't eat in these situations, she couldn't. Her stomach would become so twisted from stress that food simply would not stay in her system. For a moment, Richard felt an unreasonable anger towards these three women who had so needlessly hurt his baby girl.

If Rachel wanted out of the marriage, she should have simply said so. Richard was not the type of person to try to hold someone who did not want to be with him. He would have gladly taken primary custody of Andy and worked out any type of visitation that Rachel had wanted, anything that would have kept the two in each other's lives. Rather than face him, his wife had dropped Andy off at his mother's one day and kept going. Richard had come home from work to an empty house and a note telling him she wanted out and not to try to contact her. The divorce papers had arrived in the mail, and all arrangements were handled between their lawyers. She had not even appeared at the courthouse for the final decree. Perhaps he should have remarried, given Andy the example of a happy, successful relationship, a step-mother who stayed and made a home with them. He had never met anyone he loved as he did Rachel, though, and couldn't see himself settling for less.

Lily was in many ways similar to Rachel, always lagging behind Andy in maturity. She was the gregarious, party girl in that friendship and had, in many ways, brought the shyer Andy out of her shell. Never one to accept change well, unless it was at her own instigation, Lily had attended the same college as Andy, not because she liked or particularly wanted to go to that school, but because it was easier to not interrupt the security of a known friendship. In Richard's opinion, Lily had been accepting of Andy's relationship with Nate because she introduced them, in Richard's opinion. Andy was with the man Lily had picked out for her, one who saw life with her own narrow view; so that worked. It was only when Andy began to develop friendships and interests through her job at _Runway_, when she began to stand up for herself and to put Miranda's demands ahead of Lily and Nate's, that Lily had felt challenged. Unable to force Andy back into the old mold, Lily had played her final card, threatening to end the friendship unless Andy quit her job and returned to being the Andy that Lily was comfortable with. Andy had refused, and, unable to back down, Lily walked away devastating Andy.

Sighing, Richard began to clear the table as he continued to think. Miranda Priestly was another strong woman, a type that Andy seemed drawn to. He had noticed her obsession with Miranda when he had visited his daughter in New York months before, but he had never expected it to develop into a romantic interest. He supposed he should have since Andy tended to follow a pattern with such things. She was attracted by quiet strength, intelligence, and the perception of security. Andy always seemed to be obsessively intrigued by those traits to the exclusion of everyone else; she almost developed tunnel vision - the person became the focus of her interests. Rachel had been much the same. It was an intense evaluative reaction that distracted them from what was happening with their heart until suddenly they found themselves caring deeply for the person.

Richard couldn't help thinking that Andy, like Rachel, was frightened by the intensity of her feeling for another person. Nate had been safe to love, as Andy had never truly been _in love_ with him, a fact supported by her relative ease in letting go when he moved to Boston. Though she recognized her feelings for Miranda for what they were, she was fighting them, terrified of Miranda's rejection. But would Miranda reject her? Never having seen them together, Richard didn't think he could comfortably hazard a guess, though like any father he couldn't imagine anyone not loving his daughter in return. There was no way for him to advise Andy without that vital piece of information, so all he could do is trust her judgment and support her in any way he could.

"New girl," Miranda called in a tone even softer and icier than her norm. She waited until the girl appeared before her desk before raising her Starbucks' cup and holding it out. "What is _this_?"

"Yo-your coffee, Miranda," the girl supplied.

"No. No, this is not _my_ coffee. _This_ is swill, frigid, icy, incorrectly constructed swill. Surely someone with your educational background can tell the difference between coffee and swill, but then perhaps not. Taste cannot, after all, bet taught. One is either born with a palate, or one is not. And you. Were. NOT."

"I-I'll get you another," the new girl offered, taking a step towards the door.

"And how do you propose to do so? Who will answer the phones in your stead? ME?" Miranda scoffed in a deadly tone. "Oh, but of course, I have nothing better to do. It's not as if I have a hundred decisions to make concerning this month's edition. No, I have limitless free time and will be more than pleased to do your job for you. In fact, as long as I'm doing it, you will no longer need to. Contact Human Resources on your way out and have them send up a new you, preferably one with a palate." Miranda flipped her wrist, negligently waving the sniffling girl from her office, eyes narrowed as she watched the foolish woman grab her bag and scurry toward the elevator.

Really, how did they expect her to get anything done with such grossly inefficient people occupying the desks outside her door? And for that matter, where _was_ Andréa? It was much more preferable for her to be here not being…nice, than to be absent altogether.

She frowned as the phone began to ring and continued to do so uninterrupted. Was _no one_ going to answer that?

Janeway shuffled through the stack of padds in front of her, checking the contents of each of them. She was sure there were ten volumes, but only nine were present. Could Seven have erased one? And why would she? Intent on asking, Janeway looked up as she heard someone step into the room from the cargo hold where Seven was changing for her interview. Any thought of asking questions were instantly lost as she beheld a tall blonde in a form-fitting red skirt and sweater and impossibly high heels. Janeway's eyes started at the red-heeled clad feet and moved slowly upward over long, well-formed legs to an impossibly short skirt that started at mid-thigh. She swallowed convulsively at the expanse of revealed thigh before her eyes moved on to rounded hips, and an impossibly narrow waist offset by large, rounded breasts lovingly molded by a soft sweater. A deeply rounded neckline showed just enough cleavage to have Janeway biting her lip to suppress a whimper, without being obscene, though it was close.

"Nice outfit," Janeway rasped, her voice sounding hoarse to even her ears.

"It is sufficient for the mission," Seven stated in her no-nonsense tone.

B'Elanna, who had been patrolling the building for unwanted company, stepped back into the ship just in time to hear the Borg's comment. She chuckled as she gave Seven a head to toe once over. "What's your mission? Global seduction?" she quipped.

"That will be quite enough, Lieutenant," Janeway growled, not at all pleased with the idea of Seven seducing anyone. Well, anyone who wasn't her, though she clamped down on that thought at warp speed. Remembering what she had intended to ask Seven, she continued, "Seven, did you delete one of the volumes of the journals?"

"No, Captain, I did not," Seven responded instantly. "I did notice that one was missing after our earlier episode. It would seem that one of your antecedents either no longer exists or is no longer within your direct lineage, therefore not in a position to contribute a volume."

Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes, I was afraid of that."

"Are you feeling all right, Captain?" asked the EMH who had just materialized in the room.

"I feel somehow_ less,_ but nothing that would affect my ability to command," Janeway replied. She continued on quickly to divert his attention. "Seven's obviously ready for her interview with Miranda Priestly. What did you come up with to mask her implants? We obviously just can't hang a holo-imager on her if Seven's clothing is any indication of what she'll be wearing."

Stepping over to the replicator, the doctor input a request and waited as a small velvet covered tray appeared. Retrieving it, he turned to the others and laid it on the table. On the tray lay three small, gold rings.

"Since it will not have to hold data as large as my own program, B'Elanna was able to synthesize just the visual projection technology used in my holo-imager into the micro-circuitry that I concealed within one of these rings." He offered one of them to the captain.

Turning the ring this way and that, Janeway could perceive no difference between it and any other gold band, save for a small slit on one side. "Why three?" she questioned.

"There's one for each of you. The one you're holding is Seven's. You'll notice the small depression in one area. Pressing your thumb nail into it will activate an immediate transport back here to the Flyer. Consider it a failsafe device. The advances in inoculations against disease and the natural evolution of the human immune system, as well as Seven's Borg technology and B'Elanna's Klingon physiology, makes it imperative that none of you be examined by medical personnel in this century. Should you become injured without loss of consciousness, you can activate the sensor to transport you here for medical care," he finished, obviously pleased with himself.

"And if we're unconscious?" Janeway asked, seeing the flaw in his plan as explained.

"The ring will automatically register that and transport you the moment it senses no one else is near."

She could almost see him mentally patting himself on the back. Still, in this instance, she supposed he had cause to. "Well done, Doctor," she complimented him. "Seven." Janeway turned to the other woman and reaching for her Borg hand began to slide the ring onto her third finger. Suddenly, the symbolism of what she was doing hit Janeway and she looked up into impossibly blue eyes, losing herself in their depths. _I wish_, she thought before she could exercise her normal iron control. For a moment she thought she saw an echo of her own feelings in Seven's eyes as she felt her hand taken and the chill of metal sliding over her finger registered.


	10. Chapter 8

Janeway and Seven transported to an alley near the Elias-Clarke building. As they walked down the street, Janeway kept subtly, she thought, sniffing the air. Something smelled wonderful.

"It is coffee, Captain," Seven supplied with a faint curl to her lips.

"What? Seven, I wasn't…" Janeway stopped as Seven lifted an eyebrow in a doubtful expression. Though she had seen Seven with her implants masked on at least one other occasion, Janeway was again struck by how very beautiful her Seven was. The denial she had planned died on her lips. "Yes, all right. I wonder where it's coming from." She began to look around for the source of the enticing aroma.

Seven pointed across the street to a shop with a large sign over the door that read "Starbucks." "It is an establishment that serves various forms of coffee drinks, Captain. I came across it in my research. It is apparently Miranda Priestly's favorite source of that drink."

"Hmmm. Maybe I should check that out while you're having your interview. I'll just wait for you over there." Janeway continued to speak though she never took her eyes off the intriguing Starbucks. "You have that 'cell phone' device B'Elanna rigged up to disguise your communicator? You can call me on that if you get delayed."

"Of course, Captain," Seven responded in a wry tone.

Janeway took a step away, then stopped and turned back to Seven. "Be careful," she cautioned, her concern apparent. "We don't know what's causing these spells yet."

With a nod, Seven headed into the building and, after a longing glance, Janeway went in search of the source of that heavenly smell.

Miranda ignored the incessant ringing of the phone. Once she had discovered how to activate the caller ID on her console, she had used it to simplify her day. A quick glance now told her whether the caller was someone she wished to speak with or not. If the response was negative, she merely allowed it to ring until they gave up and ceased to bother her. While she insisted her assistants never let more than two rings pass, she did not believe that applied to herself as her time was much too valuable for such nonsense. Only the truly important people would be allowed to reach her in the first place, so for Miranda it was business as usual, though a tad louder than she preferred.

As yet another call rang in, she rolled her eyes, wishing for perhaps the hundredth time since she had sent the last new girl packing the previous afternoon, that Andréa would settle whatever emergency had befallen and return to her place at Miranda's side. It really was too much to expect Miranda to function at optimal efficiency with all these tedious details eating at her time and attention. Why she was expected to concern herself with them she could not fathom. That's what assistants were for. The fact that she currently did not have one manning either of the desks outside her office was not her concern.

Reaching for her phone, intent on calling Nigel and instructing him to drag Emily to one of the desks and chain her in place if necessary, Miranda was startled when the phone suddenly ceased ringing and a voice spoke in the outer office.

"Miranda Priestly's office…No, I am sorry. She is about to go into a meeting." Miranda heard the clack of keys as someone typed something into one of the computers. "Yes, that is correct. She wishes twelve skirts for today's run-through…No, I do not believe anyone has been delegated to collect them. You will simply have to deliver them." Miranda arched an eyebrow at the imperiousness of the tone. "Yes, I realize you are calling from Calvin Klein's showroom. Are you aware you are calling Miranda Priestly's office?... I see. Well, if you do not choose to deliver the skirts, that is certainly your prerogative; however, they will then not appear in _Runway_. Whose profit margin do you believe this will affect most drastically?...A wise choice. Delivery at 4:00?" Miranda's eyes widened as an extremely beautiful cool blonde head gazed around the corner at her. Speechless, she held up three fingers. "Ms. Priestly prefers 3:00," the blonde continued before ending the call and walking into Miranda's office.

Miranda looked her over slowly, wondering why this one hadn't graced the cover of _Runway_ already. "And you are?" she asked in chilly tones, though anyone who knew her could tell she was impressed by the blonde's handling of the skirt delivery.

"Annika Hansen. I have an interview with you for the position of second assistant," Seven informed her, handing over the résumé' she had compiled after thorough research into the best format and credentials to use.

Miranda looked over the "one page wonder" carefully. Impressive. Equal to Andréa's, in fact, though without the strong leaning towards journalism. This one had studied art, design, and business. "Why should I hire you?" Miranda asked, laying the résumé' aside and going through the formalities.

"I am eminently qualified. There is no one else currently answering your phones. There are currently fourteen items needing attention that are beneath your notice." Noticing that Miranda's neutral expression had not changed, Seven spent a few seconds processing the information she had gathered on the woman in order to find the one fact that would sway Miranda. Confident that she had found it, Seven said, "You prefer a Starbucks venti, no-foam, skimmed latte with an extra shot, served at exactly eighty degrees centigrade or 175 degrees Fahrenheit."

Looking down at the other papers on her desk, Miranda began to rattle off instructions. "Take the desk on the left. Notify Human Resources the position has been filled. Call Donatella and change our lunch to any day I'm_ not_ available. Cancel my meeting with Irv and move it to next week. I'll need to see the budget projections for the next six months as well as the final budgets for the last twelve. Find out where Emily has been hiding for the last two days and move any deadlines she has forward by at least six hours." _Hide from me, will she? _"Notify Jocelyn and Nigel that the run-through is now at 3:30 instead of 4:30. See that they get the skirts when they're delivered, and I want coffee. Ten minutes. That's all." Miranda looked up and was surprised to see the new girl nod and turn away without a pad or pen in sight. She barely suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape. For just a moment she had hoped.

Turning back to her work, she wondered how long she should wait before calling Human Resources herself.

Janeway was seated at a table drinking from a very large coffee cup when she saw Seven walk into the Starbucks and proceed to the counter to place an order, all the while keying information into one of the hand-held computer interfaces that B'Elanna had provided them. Knowing that the ex-Borg didn't care for the taste of coffee, she hoped it was a sign that the interview had gone well. As Seven glanced her way, Janeway waved her over.

"Does this mean you got the job?" she asked as Seven came to stand in front of her, thumbs still rapidly moving over the small unit.

"Yes, Captain. I believe that it does. I have a list of tasks to complete as well as retrieving an adequate serving of coffee for Miranda Priestly," Seven looked up as one of the baristas called to her. She moved to the counter and took the proffered cup only to hand it back to the stunned young man. "This is inadequate. I specified 175 degrees Fahrenheit; this is 173.2 degrees. You will remake it to the desired temperature immediately." She walked back to the captain to continue their conversation, never once having paused with her inputting.

"What is the significance of the variation in temperature, Seven?" Janeway asked.

"For the coffee beans to release the maximum amount of the essential oils necessary for optimum flavor and aroma, the water must be at exactly 175 degrees. Higher temperatures cause these oils to evaporate whereas lower temperatures do not allow for a full release. It is the temperature Miranda Priestly prefers as well," Seven explained without ceasing in her task.

Janeway laughed. "I should put you in charge of my replicator. It never seems to get the coffee hot enough."

"I will make the necessary adjustments when we return to Voyager," Seven assured her, still thumbing the interface.

"Seven, what are you doing?" Janeway finally gave in to her curiosity.

"Miranda Priestly gave me a list of tasks and a direction to retrieve her coffee in ten minutes. I have 3.2 minutes left to comply."

Shaking her head, Janeway took a sip of her coffee. "I believe she meant she wanted the coffee in ten minutes, Seven, not the entire list of tasks as well."

Seven looked up as she assumed her normal parade rest stance. "It is inconsequential, Captain, as I have completed the assignment. I must retrieve the coffee now. I have arranged for you to meet with an individual to obtain quarters for your photography studio. The information is in your hand-held unit. I will return to the shuttle when I have completed my day's tasks with Miranda Priestly." Spinning on her heel, Seven took the remade coffee from the barista and, with a nod that it was acceptable, left the establishment, her long legs eating up the distance as she returned to Elias-Clarke and _Runway._

Miranda had worked her way through the stack of paperwork and was examining the proof sheets from the last photo shoot when her nose twitched. _Coffee_. She glanced to the side just as Seven placed a large Starbucks cup near her hand on the desk. Miranda lifted a pinkie and rested it against the cup. _Hot._ She lifted the cup and took a sip. _Perfection. _Perhaps she should hold off on calling Human Resources, at least until Andréa returned. Annika could handle phone calls and get Miranda's coffee order right, so she wasn't entirely hopeless.

Miranda looked up to where Annika stood with her hands linked behind her back in a vaguely militaristic pose. Interesting. A military background had not been mentioned in her résumé'. Miranda stored the information away for later perusal and opened her mouth to dismiss the woman.

"Miranda, I have notified Human Resources that the position is filled. Your lunch with Donatella Versace is canceled. The meeting with Irv Ravitz will occur on Wednesday next week. The budget projections and final budgets are in your in-box. I can provide you with hard copies if you prefer. Emily Charlton has been moving through the building, changing location approximately every 23.4 minutes. She is currently located in a small office located at the back of the offices of a publication titled _Auto Universe_. She has, however, been there for the last 2.6 hours. It is possible she considers this a safe place to avoid being found. She has been notified that her deadlines are now due 7.2 hours prior to the original stated times. Nigel Kipling and Jocelyn Baker have received the new time for the run-through. Nigel Kipling has sent a 'clacker…'" Annika looked perplexed by the term, but continued. "…to receive the delivery of skirts from Calvin Klein. He will rejoin Jocelyn Baker after he has completed reviving Emily Charlton. Is there anything else you would like for me to do?" Annika finished.

Miranda's eyebrows had steadily risen throughout the recitation and she stared at Annika momentarily speechless. "Umm. No, that will be sufficient," she murmured and watched as Annika strode from the room. It appeared she would not be calling Human Resources after all.


	11. Chapter 9

"Where's Seven?" B'Elanna asked, turning from the replicator with her dinner tray in hand.

"Working late again," Janeway replied, adjusting the focus on the camera she held to take a picture of the engineer. She referred to the padd lying before her on the table before making a few more adjustments and taking the next shot.

"She's only been there three days and she's worked late every one of them. _Runway_ must be the Borg version of heaven, non-stop work and death to anyone who smiles. Miranda Priestly should start a collective of her own. Seven can assimilate the clackers for her," B'Elanna quipped before sampling her entrée. She grimaced and pushed the tray away. "Thousands of restaurants in this city, and we're stuck eating this. It tastes worse than gagh."

Ignoring the comment about the replicated food, Janeway explained Seven's absence. "Miranda has Seven delivering something called The Book to her townhouse every night. Evidently it's an honor to be allowed to do so on such short acquaintance."

"Better be careful, Captain. If Seven turns out to be Miranda's dream assistant, you might not get her back," B'Elanna teased.

Janeway gave B'Elanna a narrow-eyed glare. "If Seven didn't join the Think Tank, I doubt she'd join the clackers."

B'Elanna shook her head in disagreement. "I don't know. No one here has ever heard of the Borg. Seven might fit right in."

"Nigel, have you seen that…that…popsicle Miranda hired?" Emily hissed, storming into his office.

Idly wondering if there was a woman in the building who didn't walk into a room like a weather front, Nigel gazed at her over the top of his glasses. "She's been here three days, Emily. Since she's not wrapped in a cloak of invisibility all day, I've seen her several times, and each time have wondered why Miranda has her manning a desk instead of placing her on the cover of next month's edition."

"She's hardly that attractive," Emily sniffed.

"Annika is equally as beautiful as Serena." He held up a hand to forestall her protesting squeak. "Different but just as lovely. With both Annika and Six in the front office, Irv will be too busy ogling to remember what he wants to harass Miranda about next. I see that as a plus for everyone involved."

"You're bloody insufferable," she snapped.

"I'm bloody right. Annika is highly efficient, and Miranda is in a much better mood for it. Now if Andy would just get back here, we all might get some work done," Nigel turned back to the images he was studying sending a not so subtle hint to Emily.

"Right. Well, I'll leave you to it then." She stalked out.

Sighing, Nigel removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. They were all working long hours the last couple of days with the print deadline rushing toward them. Whereas most of the staff was complaining, Annika seemed to thrive on the increased work load. Miranda was in a better mood where the work itself was concerned, but he was able to see an underlying sadness that deepened with each day Andy Sachs didn't report to work. He was beginning to see a picture forming, but the fact that Miranda was involved made his suspicions highly unlikely. He'd just have to wait for Andy to come back and see what happened then. In the meantime, Annika was highly efficient, anticipating the editor's demands in a way only Andy had managed before this, and Miranda was thrilled. It was a good day at _Runway._

Seven let herself into the townhouse and moving quickly, hung the dry cleaning in the appropriate closet. She had just placed the Book on the table designated when she detected a presence moving through Miranda Priestly's quarters. As it was clear to Seven that Miranda Priestly was in a room two stories above at the back of the quarters, and the individual moving along the upper corridor was 36.3 kilograms in weight, Seven deduced it was one of Miranda Priestly's offspring. As the child could have nothing to converse with Seven about, she turned to the front door, stopping with her hand on the knob when a small voice spoke behind her.

"Where's Andy?" the girl asked from where she stood halfway down the stairs.

Turning, Seven evaluated the child. Something in the shape of the mouth reminded her of another red-head. "Andrea Sachs is still on leave," she stated.

"Is she coming back?" the small redhead pushed, coming to the bottom of the staircase.

"I do not know," Seven responded. "What is your designation?"

"My designation?" the girl frowned, clearly unsure what Seven was asking.

"Your…name," Seven clarified.

"I'm Cassidy. Miranda is my mother. Did she fire Andy?" It was evident Cassidy was not giving up until she had a satisfactory answer.

"Andrea Sachs is still employed at _Runway._ You are friends?" Seven watched as the small face hardened in a way that disturbed her. She would not like to see the same expression on Naomi Wildman's face.

"No, not any more. Andy doesn't want to be our friend. We're just kids," Cassidy snapped.

Seven leaned her head to the side and studied the small human. "Naomi Wildman is of a similar height and weight, though younger than yourself. She says she is my 'best friend.' I believe that means I am hers as well."

"Really?" Cassidy asked and then seemed to think of something else to ask. "What's your designation?" She grinned, evidently amused to be copying Seven's form of speech.

"I am Annika Hansen, Miranda Priestly's second assistant. " Seven didn't see a reason to answer the first question as she had not stated an untruth in saying Naomi Wildman was her best friend. She supposed Captain Janeway was also a best friend of a type, too, if that was possible. "Cassidy Priestly, may I ask you something?"

"Sure," Cassidy sat on the step behind her, prepared to have a talk with this strange, new assistant.

"Can an individual have more than one best friend?" The answer was suddenly very important to Seven as she had no desire to give up either of her perceived best friends.

"Well, yeah. I think so. My sister Caroline is my best friend, and I thought Andy was becoming one too, but I guess not. You can have best friends for different reasons. Like Lucy James is my best friend at school," Cassidy explained.

Seven nodded, relieved that she could keep both her best friends. "Thank you. It is the designated time for your regeneration period. You should go to your alcove, as should I."

Cassidy laughed. "You have an interesting way of talking. English isn't your first language, is it?"

"It was my first," Seven corrected. "But not the one I spoke for the majority of my life. Roy Williams is waiting to transport me. I must go."

"Bye, Annika," Cassidy called as she rose and ran up the stairs.

Seven watched her go and couldn't help missing Naomi Wildman. Miranda Priestly's offspring was most unhappy that Andrea Sachs no longer wished to be her best friend. Such an action was unacceptable if it caused the child pain. Seven resolved to correct the matter as soon as possible.

Janeway was moving about the roof, snapping pictures of the glittering skyline when she heard the light clack of heels behind her.

"Finally done for the night?" she asked, not turning from framing the next shot.

"Yes, Captain," Seven answered, coming to stand beside her.

Janeway glanced at her, easily perceiving the pensive look on the porcelain features. "What's wrong, Seven?"

"I met Cassidy Priestly tonight. She is Miranda Priestly's offspring."

After waiting a moment in which Seven did not continue, Janeway prodded her. "Well, that would be a good thing, right? Did you learn anything from her? What might have changed in Miranda's life recently?"

"Cassidy Priestly is unhappy." Seven seemed to search for what else to say. "She does not believe Andrea Sachs wishes to be her best friend any longer. It is unacceptable."

One corner of her lip curled in a hint of a sad smile as Janeway lowered the camera and turned to face Seven, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes friends change their minds, Seven. It's also possible that their lives are just going different ways. It isn't often that adults stay friendly with children if they no longer have contact with one of the parents."

"Andrea Sachs is still employed at _Runway._ There is no reason she cannot remain friends with Cassidy Priestly. The child is upset. This must change," Seven stated in that adamant tone that let Janeway know arguing would indeed be futile.

"Seven, the Prime Directive does not allow us to interfere in these people's lives," Janeway began, feeling she had to try anyway.

"We are attempting to reset the timeline. Will that not interfere?" Seven replied with unerring logic.

"I…yes, I suppose it will," Janeway sighed. "We just need to minimize our interference as much as possible. "

"How are we to know what has been caused by the altering of the timeline and what has not? Perhaps in the original timeline Cassidy Priestly was not meant to lose her best friend," Seven reasoned.

Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose against the throb of a beginning headache. "I hate time travel," she muttered before addressing the woman waiting for her response. "We don't know, Seven. That's why we have to be careful and change as little as possible until we're sure what exactly needs to be corrected. We just need to keep gathering information. Make your report, and then you need to regenerate. Tomorrow's Sunday, and you don't have to work, so I'd like to check out more of the city. Maybe take a few pictures. B'Elanna and I set up the studio today. We're going to need some actual pictures to show Miranda, and I need more practice."

Seven turned on her heel and began to stride away only to stop. She stared straight ahead with her back to Janeway for a moment in silence before finally speaking.

"Cassidy Priestly has your mouth, though it is .36 centimeters wider. The corners turn down when she is unhappy. I did not like it." Seven continued to board the shuttle without waiting for a reply.

Andy let herself into her apartment, dropping her bags just inside the door. With a sigh, she walked over and collapsed on the couch. The flight back had been horrible, full of turbulence and irritable passengers. She dropped her head into her hands with a sigh. Tomorrow she had to go back to work, that was assuming she still had a job. Running away had been a stupid thing to do, but she'd needed the distance to get her perspective back. Her walls were back in place against Miranda. Now she just had to keep them there.

With a groan, she rose, and retrieved her suitcase and purse, carrying them into the bedroom. She unpacked, putting the clothes back in her closet and dresser. Her dad had insisted she do her laundry so she wouldn't have that facing her when she got back, something she had groused over at the time but was now thankful for. Stowing the empty case in the back of her closet, she gathered her night clothes and headed into the bathroom for a shower.

She was back moments later, drying her hair with a towel. Deciding she couldn't put it off any longer, she dug her cell phone out of her bag and turned it on for the first time since she'd board the plane to Cincinnati days earlier. One text from Nigel and six voicemails from Miranda. _Six? I am so dead_. Miranda had called twice a day, and she _hated_ voicemail. Putting off the inevitable, she opened the text from Nigel first.

Are you alright? Call me. N.

She'd see him soon enough when she got to work the next day, so she replied with that information. She headed for the kitchen to fortify herself with a glass of wine before dealing with Miranda's messages. After several healthy sips, she listened to each in turn. They were all very similar, Miranda demanding to know when Andy would be back. With each message her voice became softer and colder until Andy was straining to hear the fourth one. Messages five and six consisted of a huffed sigh followed by a long moment of silence before the call was disconnected. Yet, not once were the words "You're fired" uttered nor any of the million euphemisms Miranda had perfected to replace them over the years.

Evidently, Andy still had a job, though why Miranda had kept calling after the first time was a puzzle. It was unlike the woman to keep doing so. In Andy's experience when Miranda didn't hear from someone after attempting to contact them, she simply pushed it from her mind knowing she would hear back eventually and prepared the severity of her verbal evisceration of them in direct proportion to the length of her wait. With six messages, Andy couldn't help but wonder if Miranda would leave large enough pieces of her for her dad to have something to bury.

The real issue was, did she respond to any of the messages tonight or just wait until the next day to face Miranda in person? With a hopeful glance at her clock, she groaned. Still early enough to call, though texting might be a better idea. Cowardly, but still better than listening to that icy voice tear into her tonight. She wasn't quite ready for that yet. Mind made up, she tapped in a quick message that she was back and would be at work the next morning, hitting send before she could change her mind.

Not expecting a reply, she rinsed out her wineglass and headed for the bedroom. She really could use a good night's sleep, not that the odds were in her favor. She had just slipped into bed and reached to turn out the lamp when her phone pinged with an incoming text. Thinking it was Nigel replying to her earlier message, she opened it without looking.

Annika has taken over many of your duties. We will discuss new ones tomorrow. MP

_Annika? Who the hell is Annika? _Andy wondered. Sighing, she tossed the phone on the bedside table without replying, knowing Miranda would not expect one. She could only imagine what new duties Miranda had planned for her. _Probably cleaning the toilets on the ninth level of hell._ Turning over, she attempted to sleep, sliding into the depths much easier than she would have imagined now that she was back in New York and near her own personal devil.


	12. Chapter 10

Andy arrived a few minutes early the next morning only to find that Miranda's office was already perfectly laid out in readiness for the editor's appearance. Wandering back to her desk, she pulled up the day's schedule to see if there were any last minute details that needed handling, but that too had been done with precise notations on what had been arranged. Her email in-box told hermuch the same story, with all work-related emails already having been responded to and only a few personal notes remained. _A few of my duties! What the hell is left? _Andy thought.

Before she could figure out what to do instead, a tall blonde walked in with a Starbuck's cup held tightly in one hand. _How the hell is she carrying that without getting burned?_ Andy watched as she placed it on Miranda's desk at a precise angle to the already present schedule. The blonde returned to the outer office and put away her coat and bag. She then placed a call on the office line, murmured, "Hold for Miranda Priestly," and put the call on hold. She finally came to stand precisely at the front corner of the junior assistant's desk just as the elevator dinged. A moment later, Miranda strode into view, removing her coat and handing it to the blonde. _Handing it to her? What the hell has been going on around here?_

Miranda continued on into her office without acknowledging Andy's existence and seated herself behind the desk. She took a sip of the coffee and almost purred in delight. Andy fixed a cool glare on the blonde.

"Annika," came the quiet voice from the inner office. The blonde immediately moved in response, causing Andy's eyes to narrow even further.

"I want reservations for two at that restaurant that serves the poached salmon I like at one. Call Vera and have her send the dresses for tomorrow's shoot in the next hour. Tell Nigel I need four recommendations for accessories to go with them before lunch. The brunette model will never do. Has no one ever heard of using conditioner on their hair? I need headshots for a replacement. And get me DeMarchelier. That's all," Miranda finished.

Andy expected to hear the usual "Yes, Miranda" and to get her share of the work to do. She was surprised when Annika responded differently.

"Your reservations are noted on your schedule for the day. The dresses arrived 20.2 minutes ago. Nigel Kipling's recommendations for accessories are in the red folder along with images of the dresses, though there are five recommendations, not four. The blue folder contains images of all the available brunette models. Patrick is holding on line one. I will now go move Emily Charlton's newest deadline up by 2.4 hours, unless there is something else you need."

"No, that will do. Thank you," Miranda murmured, already engrossed in the headshots.

_Thank_ _you? This woman has killed Miranda and replaced her with a double!_ It was the only explanation that made sense to Andy.

"Welcome back," Nigel said.

Andy jumped, startled since she hadn't seen him come in, so intent was she on the interaction between Miranda and Annika. "Nigel, you almost gave me a heart attack," Andy exclaimed, placing a hand over her pounding heart.

"Good morning, Annika," he said to the blonde who walked through on her way to terrorize Emily in Miranda's stead. "She's hiding in the ladies room outside _Natural Woodsman_ on the fifth floor, Annika."

"Nigel Kipling," Annika said by way of greeting. "I will seek her there."

"Let me introduce you. Annika Hansen, Andrea Sachs, first assistant. Six, this is the new second, Annika Hansen," Nigel completed the introductions.

Annika looked at Andy, clearly intrigued. "Your designation is Six? That is acceptable as my own is Seven. I prefer it to Annika."

Andy exchanged a glance with Nigel who shrugged in response.

"You _like_ being called Seven?" she asked.

"That is correct," Annika said hesitantly. "I am…used to it."

"Nigel calls me Six because that's the size I wore when I first started working here. You're nowhere near wearing a seven, so how'd you get that nickname?" Andy wondered and could almost see the wheels turning in the blonde's head.

"I was the seventh of nine assistants," Annika supplied after another brief hesitation.

"And who would need nine assistants?" Miranda asked, having come to stand in her doorway, drawn by the conversation.

"My previous employer, Cap-Kathryn Janeway. She is a photographer," Annika answered.

"A photographer who needs nine assistants? That's a rather large staff. She must be extremely successful. Why have I never heard of her?" Miranda continued.

"She does not work in New York, though she is currently in the city. She has opened a studio not far from this location," Annika explained.

"European, then?" Nigel asked.

"She is from Bloomington, Indiana," Annika answered.

"I wish to see her work," Miranda stated unequivocally. "According to Patrick, his staff is decimated by the flu. Were it anyone else, they would never work for _Runway_ again." She gave a pointed look to Nigel before returning to her desk.

Annika turned to Nigel and asked, "Why is DeMarchelier an exception?"

"Because he's saved Miranda's bacon more than once," Andy commented.

"Why would preserving a cured meat make him exempt?" Annika asked.

Nigel laughed, already used to Annika's literal turn of mind.

"Six means that DeMarchelier has helped Miranda when other photographers have failed in their duties," he explained. "You better go destroy Emily's day so you can contact this Janeway. Miranda waits for no one."

With a nod, Annika left in search of Emily, already contacting Janeway on her handheld.

"What are you thinking, Six?" Nigel asked in the quiet tones he used so as not to be overheard by Miranda.

Andy knew her eyes would reflect the hurt she was feeling, though she tried to stuff it behind her carefully constructed walls. "I've been replaced, Nigel."

He reached out and took one of her hands, patting it with his own. "Not where it truly counts, Andy," he assured her enigmatically. As a softly spoken "Andréa" filtered into the room, he nodded toward Miranda's office. "She hasn't been happy with you gone the last few days. You better get in there."

Janeway was perfecting her technique with airbrushing a photo in the twenty-first century computer that sat on the desk in front of her while B'Elanna was adjusting the lighting for one of the many set-ups she had practiced so far that morning.

"Is there a reason we're doing this?" B'Elanna asked, kicking at yet another cable that meandered across the floor. "We couldn't just fake it?"

"From what I've read in the family journals, added to what Seven has reported concerning Miranda Priestly, she'd see through us before we even begin. We need to be as authentic as possible, B'Elanna, and that takes practice. The actual photos we'll create using our own resources and the replicators to save time, but it will help to know how far from perfectly accurate we need to be in the finished product. I'll have Seven evaluate these tonight to calculate the right error ratio," Janeway said as she delicately manipulated the stylus on the digital pad under her hand. "Actually, I'm rather enjoying this. I may program a similar arrangement in Master DaVinci's studio once we're back on Voyager."

With a sigh B'Elanna adjusted the tilt on yet another lamp and compared the result to the photo she held in her hand. She looked up as Janeway's handheld chirped, glad of anything that would interrupt the tedium.

"Miranda Priestly wants to see my portfolio. I suggest we get changed. It's show time," Janeway grinned with that unholy glee that usually led them all straight into trouble.

A short time later, they materialized in the same small alley that Janeway and Seven had used the previous week. As she tottered along in the ridiculous heels the doctor had replicated for her along with the outfit she now wore, B'Elanna growled under her breath.

"I'll never understand how you and Seven walk in these things," she grumbled.

"Every added inch helps when most of your crew is taller than you are," Janeway replied, laughing.

"Yeah? What's Seven's excuse? Easier to look down your nose at everyone when it's a foot above their heads?"

Janeway sighed. "B'Elanna, Seven doesn't feel superior to you."

"Sure, she does. Just ask her sometime," B'Elanna disagreed, irritated that as always the captain sided with the tall Borg.

She noticed Janeway glancing at her from the corner of her eye before the captain continued. "I seem to remember someone who felt that being the first to lash out would protect her from anyone else doing so. Not the best way to make friends, but given enough time her fellow crew members saw through that, and she made a place for herself on Voyager. Seven's just trying to do the same."

B'Elanna didn't respond, preferring to concentrate on not breaking her neck in the ludicrous shoes. She did have to hand it to Seven. B'Elanna could barely walk in them on a level surface, and she'd seen Seven running over uneven ground in similar shoes many times. Even with Borg enhancements it was quite a feat, but then Seven was always performing miraculous feats to save one or more of the crew, including her. Like this mission…there was no overt danger that they were aware of, but even if there had been, Seven would still have marched in ahead of the rest of them, ready to do battle to protect her collective. B'Elanna realized with guilt that it didn't even matter how the Voyager collective treated her back, Seven would always sacrifice herself for them without question. She sighed to herself as the thought that a half Borg might have more honor than a half Klingon left her with a decidedly uncomfortable feeling. She was extremely grateful when they walked into the _Runway _offices, and she was able to push the thoughts away for more immediate concerns.


	13. Chapter 11

Janeway found herself gazing into smoky gray eyes not unlike her own. She couldn't help but wonder if her own hair would be that same pristine, snowy shade of white one day and if she would look half as good when it did.

Miranda, for her part, said not a word, merely held her hand out for the portfolio which B'Elanna handed over. A quick cutting glance from those icy eyes had the Klingon excusing herself to the outer office before she'd even realized what she'd done, if the look on her face was any indication. It caused a small smile to curl Janeway's lips as she recalled reacting the same way when she received an identical look from her own mother. At least now she knew where Gretchen Janeway had gotten it.

Janeway watched Miranda flipthrough the images contained within the portfolio, waiting to see if she would receive the dreaded lip purse that Seven had warned her about. Other than the occasional "Hmmmm" Miranda said nothing, merely studied each photograph closely. At last, she reached the final image and closed the back flap.

"Why have I not heard of you before?" Miranda asked in her quiet tone.

Janeway found herself leaning closer to hear and wondered why she'd never thought to use this tactic herself. It would come in quite handy with some of the more belligerent species she had to negotiate with.

"Perhaps because I don't wish to be known outside of a certain circle," Janeway offered by way of explanation. "I work selectively so that my time is my own."

Miranda nodded. "The photographer contracted to shoot a spread tomorrow has had to drop out at the last moment. I want you to replace him. "

Janeway offered up her diplomatic smile which gave away as little as Miranda's neutral expression. "If we can come to an agreement on terms, I'd be glad to," she said as if she was granting Miranda a personal favor.

The sudden arching of Miranda's brow told Janeway that the woman was not unaware of her implication.

"I see," Miranda leaned back in her chair and studied Janeway for a moment. "And you make this offer, why?"

_Smart lady,_ Janeway thought, realizing Miranda was aware there was no plausible reason for anyone to do the editor such a favor without some hope for gain. That was evidently how it worked in Miranda's world, so Janeway gave her the most believable reason she could come up with on short notice.

"I have a fondness for Annika, and she asked me if I would assist you," Janeway explained with a small shrug.

"And you always do what your ex-assistants ask of you?" Miranda inquired with an arched brow.

"About as frequently as you do, I would suppose," Janeway chuckled lightly. She noticed Miranda glance towards the open doorway. A quick check in the reflective surface of a picture frame on the wall behind Miranda showed Janeway that B'Elanna and Seven were talking to someone she assumed was Andrea Sachs.

"There seems to always be exceptions to one's personal rules," Miranda murmured as if to herself while staring intently toward the three women.

"Yes, there do," Janeway agreed quietly, watching one particular woman in the reflection as she suspected Miranda was doing as well. The thought that Miranda might be looking at Seven made Janeway shift uneasily. Surely not—Miranda. Miranda barely knew Seven. _But then how long did it take me? _Janeway thought with an internal sigh. This was a complication they did not need. Janeway cleared her throat gently to bring Miranda back to the topic they had been discussing.

Miranda blinked at her for a moment, as if unsure where she was or what they had been discussing. "Oh, yes. Your terms. And they would be?"

"My staff, my equipment, and I do the final processing," Janeway listed.

Miranda nodded. "Acceptable."

"And the photographer's credit can read anything you want, except my name," Janeway added, raising her hand to forestall a comment as the editor clearly bristled. "It's not that I consider _Runway_ to be an inferior publication. Far from it. I am simply aware of what shooting for your magazine could do as far as expanding my reputation. I prefer to photograph the things I wish to. It's simpler for me to continue to do so by keeping my anonymity to a certain extent."

Again Miranda nodded at the reasoning. "Very well. Seven informed me that you normally work with nine assistants. As you've just set up your studio here, I assume you do not have your full staff with you yet?"

Janeway blinked at her in confusion. "You call Annika Seven?" she asked, wondering how that had come about.

Miranda's lips quirked for a moment. "It seems my Art Director, Nigel Kipling has nicknamed Andréa Six for reasons of his own. Annika explained that she was the seventh of your nine assistants and prefers that 'designation.' I chose to comply with her request. As I said, exceptions abound."

Janeway bit her lip to stifle a laugh. "Ummm, no, I don't have a full staff with me," she replied choosing to answer Miranda's first inquiry and not to respond to Seven's little fabrication.

"Seven is quite capable of maintaining the functioning of this office to the level that I require. So much so that Andréa finds herself free at the moment. Serena has met her deadlines for this month. I should be able to spare her as well to assist you," Miranda seemed to think for a moment and then an almost evil gleam made her eyes glow a bright blue. "And, by all means, take Emily as well. I'm sure she will be thrilled by the idea. Perhaps you'll have better luck with keeping up with her," Miranda muttered the last under her breath. "I'll instruct Andréa to notify them immediately. When would you like them to start?"

"If you'll give me the details of the shoot you want, then I'll have a better idea when they need to report," Janeway hedged. What was she supposed to do with three extra people?

B'Elanna walked out of Miranda's office with such a startled expression on her face.

"There is a problem, B'Elanna Torres?" Seven asked her crewmate.

"Umm, no, I just think I finally met someone who could scare my mother," B'Elanna admitted.

"Miranda Priestly is a formidable woman," Seven agreed.

B'Elanna nodded. "And I thought Janeway could scare a targ," she muttered low enough she knew only Seven's Borg enhanced hearing could discern her words. She was proved right when Seven nodded subtly, and the other woman remained non-reactive. "Who's your friend, Annika?"

"Andrea Sachs is Miranda's first assistant, B'Elanna Torres. Her designation is Six." Seven introduced the two.

"Six, huh?" B'Elanna chuckled. "Was that Annika's idea?"

"No, that was Nigel's, but Seven seems quite happy with it. You can call me Andy, though," Andy shrugged as if it didn't matter to her what she was called, though B'Elanna noticed a certain tension in the woman's shoulders that belied her words.

"Got them calling you Seven already? Fast work," B'Elanna teased her crewmate.

"It is my designation, B'Elanna Torres. What else would they call me?" Seven leaned her head to the side waiting for an answer.

"I can usually think of a few things," B'Elanna laughed.

"Indeed," Seven agreed, rolling her eyes for emphasis.

"I take it you two get along really well," Andy asked sarcastically.

"We have our moments. Usually when Seven's acting superior to everyone else," was the quick reply.

"I am not superior, B'Elanna Torres," Seven said with a small sigh.

Reminded of what the captain had said to her earlier, B'Elanna smiled at the tall Borg. "Anyone who can run in these shoes is superior, Seven. Trust me." For just a moment, she thought the Borg was going to actually smile at her, then remembered that Seven never smiled. _Does she even know how?_ B'Elanna wondered for the first time. A closer examination revealed a definite twinkle in those big blue eyes. _Yeah, I guess she does in her own way._ Deciding to turn her talents of gathering information in a way that Seven normally couldn't, B'Elanna focused her attention on Andy.

"So have you worked for Miranda long?" she asked with a smile.

"Just short of a year, which is about as long as any assistant does, though Emily made it almost two," Andy responded easily.

"I'll have to meet this Emily. She must be an incredibly strong woman."

"Or maybe a masochist, I haven't really decided," Andy quipped. "Good luck with meeting her though. Emily has made herself pretty scarce lately. I think she's afraid of having to do assistant duty again."

"But you're not?" B'Elanna nudged her gently.

Andy's smile was wry. "I don't have that long left to make my year. What's the worst that could happen? Miranda fires me? That doesn't keep you from getting hired in this town; that only happens if she blacklists you as well. I doubt Miranda would waste her time with that."

Something wasn't right, and B'Elanna couldn't put her finger on what it was. From what Seven had told them, Miranda had seemed anxious to have this woman back in the office. Yet, Andy Sachs seemed to be almost blasé about the editor firing her. It didn't add up. She glanced back at the inner office to see the editor staring toward where Andy and Seven stood near each other, but really couldn't be sure which one Miranda was watching so closely. There was something going on here beneath the surface, and B'Elanna didn't think Seven was comfortable enough with the subtleties of personal interactions to ferret it out. She made a mental note to talk to the captain about it later. Maybe Janeway had picked up something from Miranda.

"So where's a good place to get a drink around this city?" B'Elanna asked, hoping for an opening to spend some time outside of _Runway _with Andy and to get a chance to see what else she could find out.

"There's a couple of bars nearby that several of us go to after work. I can write them down for you," Andy offered, giving her a true friendly smile for the first time.

"I'm actually new to the city. Maybe you'd want to go have a drink with me sometime," B'Elanna inquired. She put just a hint of seductiveness in her smile, having picked up a vibe from Andy that she might be receptive to female attention. She was relieved when Andy's smile didn't falter but grew a bit wider.

"I might like that," she said. "We'll have to compare schedules. I think I'll be getting out of here pretty early the next few days since Seven is taking over most of the things that used to keep me here late."

Noticing that Janeway and Miranda were walking toward them, B'Elanna grinned. "I think the schedule question will be answered soon enough. Looks like they're finished in there." She kept an eye on Andy as Miranda addressed them all.

"Andréa, notify Serena and Emily, if you can find her, that the three of you will be assisting Kathryn for the next three days. Seven is quite capable of handling the office by herself. You will report directly to her studio during that time so there is no need for any of you to come into the office."

B'Elanna watched as those warm brown eyes took on a decidedly chilly cast at Miranda's words, though Andy answered in a polite, professional tone.

"Of course, Miranda."

"Kathryn will provide you with the address of her studio and the details of your assignment. That's all."

Andy nodded. "I'll get them now. Would the small conference room be suitable, Ms. Janeway?"

It was clear the captain was somewhat startled to be addressed in this manner, though she hid it well from anyone who hadn't spent years becoming familiar with her cool veneer.

"Kathryn, please. That will be fine. Seven can show us where it is."

"If you'll excuse me," Andy said, turning to leave.

B'Elanna leaned over as Andy passed and whispered, "Guess we can have that drink sooner rather than later."

Andy nodded with a pleased smile and continued out. B'Elanna looked back in time to feel a chill race down her spine as her own eyes were seared by the ice in Miranda's glare. _Kahless! That woman could end a blood feud with one look. _There was definitely more going on here than met the eye.


	14. Chapter 12

B'Elanna had just sat down with Janeway at the small table in the aft compartment when Seven materialized and joined them.

"Have a seat, Seven," Janeway directed.

"Yes, Captain," she responded and seated herself primly on the opposite side of the table from B'Elanna.

"How'd you get away from Miranda?" the engineer asked, surprised that Seven could get free so early.

"Miranda Priestly is attending a school function for her offspring tonight. She left early to have dinner with them as well," Seven replied.

"Captain, did you notice anything unusual when you were talking to Miranda today?" B'Elanna asked.

"Unusual how, B'Elanna?" Janeway wanted to know.

"I don't know to be honest. I just got a strange feeling from Andy Sachs. Something isn't right there. I don't know quite what it is though. I know that's vague, but I'm not sure how else to describe it." B'Elanna threw up her hands, frustrated that she couldn't be more precise.

Janeway nodded and rubbed the back of her neck. "Seven, you said that Miranda seemed anxious for Andy to return to the office last week? How did she act earlier today?"

"Her heart rate and respiration had returned to normal ranges. She did not exhibit the same signs of physical nervousness that she had previously. Yet, she did not interact with Six as I expected her to. It seemed sufficient that Six had returned to _Runway_."

Janeway leaned back her in chair and seemed to think for a moment. "During our conversation, Miranda paused once and seemed to be fixated on the three of you in the outer office. Well, on you and Andy, Seven, though I couldn't be sure which of you she was watching. "

"Miranda Priestly does look at me frequently, Captain. I did not notice her doing the same to Six today."

B'Elanna noticed that Janeway frowned at this piece of information. It clearly was not to her liking.

"Andy was friendly with me, a bit cooler towards Seven, but that would make sense if she thinks Seven is a threat to her job," B'Elanna observed.

"Yet, she did not seem concerned with the idea of being fired," Seven interjected.

"No, she didn't," B'Elanna agreed. "And when Miranda told her that she'd be working with us the next few days, Andy became really cold towards her. She was outwardly polite, but you could see the chill in her eyes."

"Yes, I noticed that, too," Janeway commented.

"I'm not sure it matters, but I think Andy is gay. Is it possible that Miranda made a pass at her at some time, and that's why she's so cold toward her?" B'Elanna wondered. "Tom said that this time frame had big concerns with sexual harassment on the job."

"It's possible," Janeway admitted. "Though Miranda doesn't strike me as the type to make unwanted overtures to her staff. It's also possible there is or was a consensual relationship between them, and Andy sees Seven as a threat to that in some way."

Seven frowned at that, attracting B'Elanna's attention.

"What's up, Seven?" she asked, since it was clear that the Borg found something disquieting about the conversation.

"It is possible for two women to have a romantic relationship?" Seven asked, exposing her naiveté to B'Elanna for the first time.

"Well, yes," B'Elanna answered, surprised at the question. "In fact, I have a sort of date with Andy for drinks later tonight."

Seven tilted her head and studied B'Elanna in that way she had which always left the Klingon feeling vaguely like a bug under a microscope. "I was aware you were no longer involved with Tom Paris, but I did not know you dated women as well, B'Elanna Torres."

"I did before I ended up on Voyager. I just haven't met a woman among the crew who's interested me that way," B'Elanna confessed.

"Intriguing," Seven responded, and it was clear she found it so, which served to draw another frown from Janeway.

Deciding that retreat was definitely the better part of valor in this situation, B'Elanna slapped her hands lightly on the table top. "Well, if I'm going to be on time meeting Andy, I better get ready. Captain, is there anything else?"

"What?" Janeway who had appeared deep in thought, started at the interruption. "No, that's it for right now. Try to find out from Andy what is going on between her and Miranda if you can. "

Relieved, B'Elanna headed to the fore compartment to replicate an outfit for her "date," leaving the other two women alone.

Janeway waited until the door panel slid shut behind B'Elanna before speaking."Seven, has Miranda said or done anything that has made you think she's interested in you in a romantic way?"

"No, Captain. She has not."

"You said she looks at you," Janeway prodded.

"Miranda Priestly looks at everyone, Captain. She evaluates their clothing. It is what she does," Seven stated, clearly unconcerned about the attention. "I have experienced the type of looks you are asking about, and that is not what Miranda Priestly is doing."

"You have?" Janeway asked startled, not at all pleased that someone had been giving Seven the eye.

"Yes, Captain. Both on Voyager and numerous times while walking in New York, as well as at _Runway. _I was not, however, aware that the women who did so had the same intentions as the men. I will need to re-evaluate based on that knowledge," Seven answered her.

"No one has made you uncomfortable, have they?" Janeway had to ask, knowing she was likely to punch anyone who had, even if it was her umpteenth great-grandmother.

"No. I have become used to it. It is of no consequence as I do not return the interest."

Janeway nodded, refusing to admit to herself how relieved she was to hear that Seven wasn't interested in any of the people who had been ogling her, though she still wasn't thrilled with the ogling itself. That was something else she didn't want to look too hard at.

"You should get back to _Runway, _Seven_._ I'll speak to you later this evening or in the morning."

Once she was left alone with her thoughts, Janeway found it hard not to return to examining the feelings she held for Seven. It was a useless effort as far as she was concerned because Seven would never return her feelings. Her Borg had as much as said no one on Voyager interested her, which obviously included Janeway. Frustrated with her train of thought, she reached for one of the padds that held the journals. She knew one was missing, but couldn't recall the content or who had written it. Nor it seemed, could Seven. Janeway could only theorize that the alteration to the timeline's effects on Seven had included minute changes in her cortical node just sufficient to eliminate that knowledge. It wasn't a perfect theory but the only one she had, and they might never know exactly why Seven couldn't remember the contents of the journal any better than Janeway could.

She soon lost herself in the stories of the past. The one journal that had always intrigued her most, and now was the most concerning due to the change in tone didn't have a clear author. Since it described events often spaced out over years, it was difficult to pinpoint to one specific person. It was only clear that it had been written in the latter half of Miranda Priestly's life, though the actual writer could have been anyone within the family. Janeway didn't think it was Miranda herself as she was referred to by name and not by the first person pronoun most would use when writing of their own lives. Maybe with what she had learned today, re-reading it would bring her closer to identifying the author. She couldn't shake the thought that, whoever it was, he or she was the cause of all the symptoms she and her crewmen were experiencing.

B'Elanna walked through the bar, resplendent in form-fitting black leather pants and matching medium-heeled, knee-high boots. Her black silk blouse molded her frame lovingly, unbuttoned just far enough to reveal a hint of cleavage. She looked good and knew it, which was reflected in the way she moved.

She scanned the after-work crowd looking for Andy and found her standing at the bar towards the back of the room. B'Elanna swallowed around a sudden tightness in her throat as she scanned the curvaceous body clad in skinny jeans, heels, and a tight red sweater. Andy Sachs was built way too much like Seven for B'Elanna's own good. Unfortunately, unlike with Seven, B'Elanna couldn't notice in a non-romantic way. Miranda Priestly might not want this woman, but B'Elanna Torres was going to have a hard time keeping her hands to herself. Steeling her resolve, she walked up to Andy and smiled.

"Hey, hope I didn't keep you waiting long."

"Not at all," Andy grinned with a mega-watt smile that rocked B'Elanna back on her heels. "I just got here myself. Can I get you a drink?"

"What's that you're having?" B'Elanna asked, gesturing to the glass in Andy's hand.

"Dirty Martini. Ever had one?"

B'Elanna shook her head in the negative and watched as Andy got the bartender's attention and by raising her glass and holding up two fingers. Draining the drink she held, Andy set it on the bar and accepted the new drinks after dropping a few bills on the bar. She turned back and handed one to B'Elanna who sipped cautiously. The drink was a bit salty but didn't carry anywhere near the kick of blood wine so she took a healthy swallow.

"It's good," she smiled and looked around for a table. Seeing one open up near them, she led Andy over to it, and they sat making small talk through that drink and another. They fell silent as the next round was delivered by the server.

"How long have you worked for Kathryn?" Andy asked, breaking the silence.

"A little over seven years, though sometimes it seems much longer," B'Elanna laughed, glad that at least in this she could tell the truth.

"I take it she's a tough boss," Andy grinned.

"Tough? Yes, but fair, and she looks out for her people. If things are going to get unpleasant, she's at the front of the line ready to charge in, not the back. You have to respect that," B'Elanna explained.

"Must be nice," Andy sighed. "Miranda tends to look out for Miranda first and foremost. In some ways, she doesn't have a choice. Anyone who has the kind of power she does pretty much has a target on her back, especially a woman. She's worked hard to get where she is. I suppose it's only natural she'd fight to keep it."

B'Elanna gave a lopsided grin. "Makes sense. I guess the problem comes with what you're willing to do as part of that fight."

"Yeah, that is a problem," Andy agreed with a grimace. "If I didn't know for a fact she adores her girls, I'd swear she's the type to eat her young to win."

A bark of laughter was B'Elanna's response. "I'll be honest. The woman scares me. I think she'd even scare my mother, though you'd have to know my mother to realize what a huge thing that is."

Andy giggled. "Miranda scares most people. I've seen grown men cry when she tears into them. About the only person who's safe is Nigel, and even he hasn't always been." She sobered and looked away, her face hardening. "Truthfully, none of us are safe. Trusting Miranda is a mistake. Do yourself a favor and don't make that one."

B'Elanna nodded in understanding. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. So you're really going to leave her when your year is up?"

"I'd go sooner, but I'm determined to see this through. I can get a job anywhere with a recommendation from Miranda. It takes one year to earn it. I'm too close to give up now," Andy said and compressed her lips into a determined line.

"You'll make it," B'Elanna reached out impulsively and rested her hand over Andy's.

Andy bit her lip and gazed at B'Elanna through thick, dark lashes. "You're really nice. Why can't I fall for someone like you?" Her lips twisted ruefully before she gave a bitter laugh. "Damn, I'm drunk. Why aren't you?"

"High genetic tolerance," B'Elanna shrugged negligently. Keeping her interactions with Andy casual was proving harder by the minute. She had to actually restrain herself from taking the other woman in her arms to comfort her.

"I should probably get home, if I'm going to meet you guys in the morning," Andy smiled and started to rise only to grab the edge of the table. "Whoa. Okay, I definitely should have eaten first."

B'Elanna rose and took her arm. "I think it would be a good idea if I see you home. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

Andy laughed softly. "Normally, I'd argue and be all…'I can take care of myself,' but to be honest, I'm not quite sure I can, so lead on."

They quickly found a cab once they reached the street, and Andy provided her address to the driver. It wasn't long before B'Elanna found herself standing outside Andy's front door as Andy turned back in the open doorway.

"You really are sweet," Andy said with a gentle smile. "I had a good time this evening, but next time, we eat first."

B'Elanna's eyes widened at the thought there might be a next time and widened more when Andy leaned forward to give her a hug and a soft kiss on the cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Good night," Andy whispered near B'Elanna's ear. She stepped back and closed the door, leaving the Klingon standing in the hallway.

A huge grin split B'Elanna's face as she stepped around a corner and out of sight. A quick entry in her hand-held had her beaming to the Flyer.


	15. Chapter 13

The next morning Andy wandered into Kathryn's studio, a tray of Starbucks in one hand, venti-sized cup in the other, and large Prada sunglasses covering her eyes. Walking up, she shoved the tray into Serena's hand, simultaneously taking a sip from the cup she held.

"You are channeling Miranda, perhaps?" Serena teased her, causing Andy to choke on her coffee.

Andy coughed, clearing her lungs. "Oh, damn. Not nice, Serena. And after I brought your favorite Starbucks and everything."

Grinning unrepentantly, Serena checked the labels and pulled her cup from the tray. "You are a good woman, Andy. Me, I am not so nice." She gave an elegant shrug of one shoulder.

"But somehow that's what I love about you," Andy teased, giving her a light shoulder bump.

"It is understandable," Serena assured her in a matter of fact tone. "I am beautiful."

Andy laughed and slung an arm around her friend's shoulders. "Inside and out, Serena. Not to mention modest."

"You always say this, though we both know it is not true," Serena chuckled, wrapping a long arm around Andy's waist.

Janeway appeared on the upper landing, drawn by the smell of her favorite elixir and looked down at the two women standing arm in arm and laughing. Was it possible these two were a couple? She turned to start down the stairs to greet them, only to stop when a strident voice rent the air.

"Bloody hell! Can't you keep your grabby, bleeding hands off anyone?" Emily snapped from just inside the doorway to the street.

"As Andy has never touched you, I would say the answer is yes," Serena answered, taking a sip of her coffee to hide a mischievous grin.

"Good morning to you, too, Em." Andy rolled her eyes. Plucking a cup from the tray Serena still held in one hand, she offered it to Emily. "Skinny tea, steeped at the boiling point. You're as bad as Miranda trying to fry your tongue."

"Perhaps it is what keeps it so sharp," Serena teased.

"Careful you don't make me cut you with it," Emily warned, taking the cup and sipping from it with a purr of delight. "Pity you're not my assistant, Andrea. You always get the tea right."

"If I didn't know better I'd think that was a compliment," Andy laughed. "But face it, Em. We'd kill each other in a week."

"It wouldn't take nearly that long," Emily sniffed disdainfully. "The incessant chatter would make me daft in the first hour. I couldn't be held responsible for my actions."

Janeway rolled her eyes at the three. If she weren't there to see them, each with a smile of varying sizes playing on their lips, she would swear they hated each other. Yet, they actually seemed to be friends. Andy was all smiles and kindness, Serena calm and superior, and Emily pure hauteur and abrasiveness. They seemed to have nothing whatsoever in common except their jobs at _Runway_, but still somehow, they complimented each other. She stayed where she was, watching their interactions for a moment longer and was shortly joined by B'Elanna.

"Miranda hires some amazingly beautiful women," B'Elanna said in a soft voice.

"Mmmm," Janeway allowed as a response. Her mind was caught by the image of the three, so different. The fieriness of the redhead, the earthy sultriness of the brunette and the serene, airy sensuality of the blonde spoke to her. There was a lack of balance though, and Janeway couldn't put her finger on the cause. She glanced sideways at B'Elanna, perhaps…No, B'Elanna was also fire, so that wasn't what was missing. Frustrated, she pushed the thought away and continued down the stairs.

"I believe I smell coffee!" she called ahead, smiling at the three who turned to face her.

Andy laughed and offered up a cup. "I guessed black with an extra shot. How'd I do?"

"You're a mind reader," Janeway grinned, taking the cup and sipping avidly.

"And one for you," Andy added, proffering the last cup to B'Elanna.

"No, but thank you. I don't really like coffee. It has a nasty taste," the engineer said.

"Don't say that in front of Miranda," Emily advised.

"Did I steer you wrong on the last drink I bought you?" Andy asked with a grin.

"Well, no," B'Elanna admitted, her face taking on a pink tinge that had Janeway arching an eyebrow.

"Then take a sip," Andy encouraged her.

Hesitantly, B'Elanna sipped at the contents of the cup, a look of surprise coming over her features.

"This is good," she admitted, taking a healthier swallow much like she had the night before.

Andy laughed. "It's tea. Manhattan Earl Gray to be exact. Em hates it, but I thought you might like it."

"You got this at the same place as the coffee?" B'Elanna asked and as Andy nodded continued, "I'll keep that in mind. What's with the sunglasses? Hangover?"

"A little one," Andy said holding her thumb and forefinger close together and then widening them considerably with a laugh. "It's much better now. Just not thrilled with the sunlight is all." She pulled off the glasses to reveal amazingly clear brown eyes. "So what do we do first?"

Noticing the sexy look B'Elanna was giving Andy, Janeway spoke up. "The models should be here soon. I'm assuming you've worked photo shoots before, and Miranda picked you for a reason."

"I am hair and makeup," Serena said.

"Clothing and accessories," Emily spoke next.

"That just leaves you, Andy. What's your expertise?" Janeway asked her.

"Usually I keep things organized and moving smoothly, make sure the models don't pass out or eat anyone, and try to make sure Miranda doesn't kill or maim anyone," Andy smiled.

"Well, I'm not Miranda, so anyone I kill or maim will deserve it," Janeway advised, her lips quirking.

"Yes, ma'am," Andy grinned.

"Oh, and don't call me ma'am. I hate it. Call me Kathryn. Save the ma'am for crunch time, and I'll tell you when it's crunch time."

"Yes, Kathryn," the three women said together in a tone that told Janeway it was a rote response they gave Miranda regularly.

Janeway threw back her head and laughed. "I'm going to like you three. Let's get organized. The models will be here soon."

The rest of the day went smoothly. Since Miranda had asked for studio shots, there was no location to deal with. Serena had the models made-up and styled in record time and was then available for touch-ups and to help Emily as she bullied the women in and out of couture and jewelry. Andy seemed to be everywhere at once. If she wasn't riding herd on bickering models, she was helping B'Elanna adjust lights and props for the different setups. The shoot was done by early afternoon, and the five of them working together had things cleaned up and organized for the next day by a much more normal quitting time than the three from _Runway _were used to.

Janeway stood, hands on hips, surveying the last few details of the first setup for the next day. Satisfied that they were as ready as they could be, she called them all together.

"Excellent work. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starving. We never stopped for lunch. Someone should have reminded me," Janeway laughed.

"Like you ever eat," B'Elanna scoffed.

"Serena and I are used to Miranda keeping us too busy to eat," Andy told them.

"And Emily believes food is an evil created to tempt her into sin," Serena joked.

"I thought that was you," Andy teased her.

"Shut it," Emily snapped in her usual gruff manner.

"I tell her I have no calories, but she is not impressed," Serena told Andy. Emily huffed and stomped away.

"One day she'll figure out you're not kidding," Andy spoke low enough her voice couldn't carry to where Emily stood organizing the already immaculate accessories table. The jewelry and couture were already locked in the two safes Miranda had had delivered the previous evening. Only she, Nigel and Emily had the combinations, and he would be by later to exchange the current outfits with the ones they would shoot the next day.

_Interesting_, Janeway thought. Serena was interested in Emily, and Andy was aware of the fact. Emily either thought Serena wasn't serious or didn't return the feelings. Though Emily showed a surface hostility toward Andy, they actually worked well together and seemed to be friends. Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. The interactions between these women were more complicated than negotiating with the Tak Taks. All the posturing that was innate to that species had nothing on the _Runway_ crowd.

"How about I treat everyone to dinner?" Janeway offered. There had been little time to talk to the women throughout the day, and this might give her a chance. So far all they had found out was that there was some type of disagreement between Miranda and Andy Sachs which resulted in Andy distancing herself from Miranda and her children. Janeway couldn't see how anything in that which was drastic enough to threaten her own existence. There hadn't been any more episodes since the one when they'd first arrived in this time frame, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be more. Perhaps their presence was holding whoever was behind this at bay.

As the others chorused their agreement and then went to gather their coats and bags, Janeway pulled B'Elanna to the side. "Find out as much as you can about what's happened between Miranda and Andy. I know it's a long shot, but that's the only thing we've found that's obviously wrong here."

"Aye, Captain," B'Elanna responded with a smile, quite obviously pleased with the option to spend more time with Andy.

"And, B'Elanna, don't forget that we don't belong here and we'll be leaving as soon as this is over," Janeway reminded gently.

Sighing, B'Elanna nodded. "I know. I keep telling myself that. She's just probably the nicest person I've met in a long time."

"It doesn't help that she's beautiful either," Janeway smiled at her chief engineer and friend.

"No, it doesn't," B'Elanna agreed with a rueful laugh. "I'll keep it under control, Captain."

"You do that, Lieutenant," Janeway clapped her on the shoulder. "Now, let's go eat."


	16. Chapter 14

Dinner had proven an interesting affair. B'Elanna and Andy had each devoured a large steak, Janeway and Serena had consumed most of their grilled chicken Caesar salads, and Emily had artfully arranged and rearranged a small dinner salad into various patterns while nibbling the occasional lettuce leaf. They had all then adjourned to a nearby bar for a nightcap and dancing where they were joined by Nigel.

Janeway was watching the dance floor and attempting to suppress a laugh as Andy, Serena, and Emily attempted to teach B'Elanna one of the current dances. The half-Klingon was definitely more suited to battle than this form of dancing. Finally a slow song came on, and B'Elanna was able to lead Andy smoothly around the dance floor.

"Your friend seems quite taken with our Six," Nigel observed.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious," Janeway said cautiously.

"Pity," he said taking a sip from his Mangotini. "Andy could use that type of diversion. She hasn't been the same since Paris."

"Really? Paris was difficult for her?" she asked casually.

"Mmmm. Paris was difficult for all of us," Nigel replied with a sigh. "Though Miranda and I have gotten past it, I'm not sure Andy ever has. Things have been different between her and Miranda since then. At least, Andy's different. I think Miranda is just confused." As if aware that he had suddenly said too much, Nigel looked into his glass. "These appear stronger than I remember. I should probably go in search of another." He wasted little time in vacating the area.

Pulling out her hand-held, Janeway sent a quick message to Seven to find out about any trips to Paris that the three had been on. This was obviously the location of the pivotal event between Andy and Miranda. Hopefully, Seven could find out what had happened. As she was sliding the unit back into her pocket, Emily dropped into one of the chairs and scooped up her drink, draining the glass.

"Having a good time?" Janeway asked.

"Quite. Bit of bloody fun never hurt anyone," Emily stated adamantly while signaling the server for another round.

"That's true," Janeway smiled. "We try to relax whenever possible; though traveling constantly makes that difficult at times."

"I was supposed to travel," Emily sighed. "I was going to Paris." She waited while a full glass was placed in front of her and the empty one taken away before continuing. "Andrea went instead. Bloody cab. Bloody Andrea. Bloody Miranda. I did get a lot of clothes though. Andrea got them for me. She's quite nice, you know, though I will have to kill you if you ever tell anyone I said that."

Janeway nodded as if that made perfect sense. Evidently, a career in fashion was a one-way trip to alcoholism. She'd never seen a group of people who drank as much.

"Just as well I didn't go," Emily went on, her accent growing thicker as she talked, "since that tosser, Irv, tried to replace Miranda with that cow Jacqueline. She put an end to that right quick, but I imagine she was pissed off the rest of the time. And then that bugger Stephen asked for a divorce in the middle of it all, by fax no less. Bloody coward, if you ask me. Miranda's well rid of him."

Janeway kept nodding and making appropriate noises to encourage the woman to keep talking, though she had a feeling the Universal Translator would come in handy. She had surreptitiously placed her hand-held on the table when Emily first began so she would have the entire conversation to review later.

"They've not been right since they got back though," Emily shook her head. "Always together they were, Miranda and Ahn-dray-ah. Miranda took her everywhere, even to Paris. I thought Andy fancied her for a while. She never smiles at her anymore, Andy doesn't. Makes Miranda bleeding daft." She sighed and looked remorsefully into her glass. "They just stopped being happy after Paris, and now Miranda's a _real_ Dragon Lady. I'm having to hide at _Natural Woodsman _and under desks. It's bloody humiliating."

"Emily, it's time to take you home," Serena's calm voice broke into the diatribe. "Andy sees what she wishes to, and Miranda wishes but does not see. It will be settled, or not. You must stop worrying. You cannot make them work it out." She gently helped the other woman up while nodding to Janeway. "We will see you in the morning, Kathryn. B'Elanna has taken Andy home. She wishes you to know she will speak with you in the morning. Do you wish to share a cab with us?"

"No, I'll see myself back." Janeway smiled up at her. "I've had very little to drink, so I'll be fine. Good night, Serena."

A golden glow bathed the stark outlines of the city as the first hints of dawn began to warm the sky. The artificial lights that had decorated the city began to wink out as the ambient light from the heavens reached into each street and alley as if a blanket were settling down to warm the city by cloaking the night's chill. B'Elanna leaned back in the camp chair she'd liberated from the stores in the Flyer, watching the beauty unfold before her.

Spending time with Andy Sachs had been like that for her, being warmed slowly by the golden glow of kindness that radiated from the sweet woman. B'Elanna growled low in her throat. It was just her luck that Andy's expansive, loving heart was already claimed and by one of the two women that B'Elanna felt she couldn't compete against and win. It figured the two were related; they had the same charismatic personality, the same internal strength and confidence. While not the visions that Andy, Seven, or Serena were, they were arresting, stunning in their loveliness, becoming the focal point of any room they entered without effort. While B'Elanna knew she was attractive, had been told so often enough to know it was true, she would never stop traffic the way the other three did, nor would she cause the world to hold its breath the way Miranda and Janeway were able to, just by looking its way.

No, B'Elanna saw herself as more like Emily. Beautiful in her own right but with a much more approachable type of beauty. Andy and the two blondes, they were the stuff of fantasies. People looked, they couldn't help but look, but never approached, always convinced they'd be shot down. Janeway and Miranda… B'Elanna chuckled to herself. Those two could melt duranium with a glance. They were like sleek, wild cats. Beautiful, elegant to behold, but deadly when displeased. Many might try to tame them, even think for a while that they had succeeded, but invariably, they'd walk away shredded and bloody. No, there was no taming those two. Each was in her own way jaded and cynical about romantic relationships, though each still yearned for love. That much was clear in their repeated attempts to find the elusive emotion.

Where B'Elanna saw Janeway and Miranda as lion or tiger, she saw herself and Emily as more panther or jaguar. No less deadly, but without the overawing presence of the elder women. What would it take to tame them? Serena seemed determined to do so with Emily. The tall blonde was well named, that was for sure. There was such an aura of calmness and peace about her that when Serena stepped into Emily's presence she seemed to cause the irascible Brit to retract her claws and purr gently.

B'Elanna had watched just such an occurrence the previous evening on the dance floor. A large drunken man had slammed into Emily almost knocking her over, and the Brit had rounded on him like a Klingon warrior in full blood lust. Serena had quietly stepped into her line of vision and laid a hand on Emily's forearm. Although she never said a word, Emily visibly relaxed under that gentle touch as if the anger and rage had drained away like energy deflected into the peace and serenity of the earth. B'Elanna had experienced a moment of envy, almost jealousy, at the sight. She wanted that for herself, to be grounded by the presence of another. Tom had been much too kinetic in his own right to provide it, his attention flitting from one holo-program or attractive woman to the next without rhyme or reason. B'Elanna thought that was why she'd been attracted to Andy. She had many of the same qualities, as did Serena, and Seven for that matter, but with a bright joy that seemed to light up a room with her brilliant smiles. That thought brought B'Elanna full circle to why she had dragged the chair out into the cold night to sit staring into the darkness. Andy was in love with Miranda Priestly.

Escorting Andy home the previous night, B'Elanna had found herself once again at the door to Andy's apartment. Only this time, she was on the other side, pressed back against the wood by a long, curvaceous body while the hands in her hair pulled her mouth tightly to Andy's. Instead of the gentle hug and peck on the cheek like the previous evening, she found herself pulled into the apartment and deep in a searing kiss before she'd realized Andy's intentions. Not that B'Elanna was complaining - quite the opposite, in fact. She was participating fully.

Pivoting, she soon had Andy pressed to the door, freeing her hands to roam over that beautifully curved body. Their lips and tongues had battled, as they each swallowed the other's moans. Hands frantically worked at buttons until bare bellies were pressed together. B'Elanna's hands were filled with large naked breasts, her Klingon lust moments from the point of consuming her when gentle hands pushed against her shoulders and a soft "No" was spoken against her lips. She stepped back immediately, panting to regain her breath. She watched the rise and fall of Andy's chest as the woman fought to bring her own breathing under control.

"I'm sorry, B'Elanna. I-I can't," Andy gasped. "It wouldn't be fair. Not to you, not to anyone. I…" She turned away and bit her lip. "I'm in love with someone. They…they don't want me, will never want me, but I can't help how I feel." A single tear tracked down a velvety cheek.

The sight dampened B'Elanna's lust as efficiently as a tsunami. She nodded, inhaling one last deep, cleansing breath and exhaling it slowly. "She must be pretty special," B'Elanna allowed through her own disappointment.

Andy's laugh was bitter. "Oh, she's something all right, though I'm not sure special is the word I'd use," Andy replied and proceeded to tell B'Elanna much of what had happened in the last year. That Andy was deeply in love with Miranda Priestly was clear, but she was just as deeply determined to finish her year and go, intending to rebuild her life elsewhere than in Miranda's shadow.

B'Elanna ached for the pain Andy had revealed while applauding her determination. Nothing in the woman's actions to that point had led B'Elanna to believe unrequited love was the issue that stood between the two women. Andy would have made a good Klingon in B'Elanna's opinion, though she really needed a bit more blood lust to truly make it in the Empire. Okay, a _lot_ more blood lust. B'Elanna had a feeling though that if Andy thought Miranda would in any way welcome the attention, she'd go after her like Kahless defending the Empire.

The soft crunch of the heels on fine gravel of the roof had B'Elanna glancing over her shoulder. Seven.

"B'Elanna Torres, this is an inappropriate place for you to regenerate. Even Klingons cannot sleep well in such a position," Seven informed her.

Primed to explode at the Borg for disparaging the ability of a Klingon, and B'Elanna in particular, to sleep well wherever they chose, B'Elanna bit down on the words that hovered on her lips. What was it Janeway had said? Seven protected the collective. B'Elanna couldn't help being surprised as she realized Seven was doing just that, showing her concern in the only way she knew how. Instead of exploding, she smiled wryly and rubbed a hand over her tired eyes.

"I was just thinking, Seven," B'Elanna explained.

"Your…date…with Six did not go well," Seven stated flatly, though B'Elanna could detect a hint of concern in the blue depths of Seven's eyes.

"For the mission, it went great. But for me personally…" B'Elanna debated for a moment before continuing. "For me it didn't go so well. Andy's in love with Miranda."

Seven nodded. "Miranda has many admirable qualities with which to attract a mate. She is strong, confident, powerful, and beautiful. It is logical for her to attract others in such a manner. She has much to offer a man…or a woman."

B'Elanna rolled her eyes at the admiration clear in Seven's tone. Did everyone develop an infatuation with Miranda Priestly?

Neither woman noticed Janeway standing just close enough to overhear, nor did they see the defeated dip that her shoulders acquired at Seven's words. She slipped back to the shuttle before either was aware she had been near.

"Do not be distressed, B'Elanna Torres. This is not our time. We will be returning to Voyager. I must go to _Runway,_ or Miranda will be displeased," Seven turned to go, paused and then turned back. "There is an ensign on Voyager who watches you. Her physiological changes while doing so indicate she is attracted to you."

"Oh, yeah? Why'd you never say anything?" B'Elanna asked, unused to the Borg not speaking her mind on every occasion.

"I did not know the attention was appropriate. You do not respond well to my commenting on your mating habits. I did not wish to cause another argument on the subject. It would have displeased the captain," Seven answered in her logical way.

B'Elanna smiled and shook her head. "And we all know how you hate to displease the captain," she chuckled thinking of all the times the two could be heard in the ready room or Janeway's quarters, voices raised in yet another example of the captain being "displeased" by the Borg.

"You are correct, B'Elanna Torres," Seven agreed, surprising the Klingon. "I do not like to displease her. Yet, I do so frequently. It is…frustrating."

If B'Elanna had felt surprise that Seven didn't like upsetting the captain, she was shocked to hear Seven was frustrated by doing so. She felt an unexpected rush of compassion for the Borg. Rising, B'Elanna moved closer to look into sad blue eyes. "The captain gets upset because she cares, Seven. Kahless, she gave up Voyager and faced down the Borg Queen to bring you home. She was ready to kill a drone with her bare hands to get you a new cortical node. Janeway doesn't do stuff like that for just anyone."

Something flickered across Seven's face and was gone before B'Elanna could figure out what it was.

"I must go to _Runway._ You need to regenerate and consume nutritional supplements." Seven activated her handheld and was gone, leaving a startled Klingon staring at nothing.


	17. Chapter 15

The second day of shooting was not going as well as the first. Janeway was not satisfied with any of the models that had been sent for this part. The overall intent was a retrospective of the great designers' most iconic pieces. The previous day had featured the more modern styles and that had gone well, but the ultra thin women didn't have the right body types for the earlier designs.

"What ever happened to curves?" the diminutive captain groused for the third time in the past hour.

"Yeah, what happened to them?" B'Elanna teased while giving Janeway a slow once over.

Huffing, Janeway reached for a new memory card to slip into the digital camera she was using. "We can't all be built like…" she bit off the words before she could finish the thought.

"Like Andy?" B'Elanna asked.

Janeway glanced at her lieutenant only to find the Klingon's eyes fixed on the tall brunette. "Or Seven," Janeway added. She continued to follow the movements of Miranda's first assistant as she flitted around the room. _Hmmmm. Andy... _Her eyes moved on to the other women helping her. _Serena…and Seven._ She began to smile in that way that caused most of her crew to want to throw themselves out an airlock.

"Uh, Captain?" B'Elanna asked, a quiver of fear evident in her voice. "You're not planning on having the doctor rebuild the models, are you?"

"What? Rebuild?" Janeway looked aghast at the woman before chuckling. "Nothing quite that drastic, B'Elanna. I'm just going to use the women who fit the clothes."

"That wasn't exactly what Miranda asked for. Do you think she'll mind?"

Sighing, Janeway turned her back to the others and lowered her voice. "B'Elanna, I don't think it matters whether Miranda minds or not. We're almost out of time. You said we'd have a week; this is the seventh day and we're no closer to figuring this out. We've found out very little about what could have altered the timeline, so I need to get this finished and get back to what's important." She growled at the engineer's grin. "There's something funny in what I said, _Ensign_?"

"According to Seven's calculations, we have several more days before we have to be at the rendezvous point," B'Elanna assured her.

"I distinctly remember being told one week." Janeway rested her hands on her hips only to find the camera in the way on one side. Frowning, she laid it on the nearby table. "How could we still have several days?" She held up a hand. "No, don't tell me," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "If you say so, I believe you. I hate time travel. Really, really hate it."

Chuckling, B'Elanna folded her arms. "So what do we do now?"

"We do the shoot my way and see what else we can find out from these three," Janeway stated, grabbing her camera and heading over to the women she was watching earlier. "All right, ladies," Janeway called out to get everyone's attention. "I appreciate all the hard work you've put in this morning, but it's just not working for me the way it's been laid out. I've decided to make a few changes."

"You're going to change Miranda's layout?" Emily asked, aghast.

"Yes, Emily, I am," Janeway said. "Are the models still in the back?" At Andy's nod, she continued, "You can tell them to go. They're too thin for the clothes."

"Too thin!" Emily squeaked.

Annoyed, Janeway glanced at her, but ignored the interruption. "Serena and Andy will be the models along with Seven. I'll shoot you two solo first, then do the group shots when Seven arrives, and finish off with her solo shots later to save time."

"Bloody hell! Miranda will kill us all!" Emily cried. "I'll be hiding in that horrendous nature magazine forever. Have you_ seen _what they wear down there?"

"I'll handle Miranda," Janeway sighed as the others snickered at Emily's hysteria.

"No one _handles_ Miranda," Emily snapped.

Janeway leveled a Force 10 glare at the woman as B'Elanna crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. Emily seemed to shrivel on the spot.

"Well, _almost_ no one handles Miranda," she mumbled, stepping behind Serena and out of line of the fierce gaze.

"Now as I was saying, these clothes were designed with women in mind who have more curvaceous figures, so that's the kind of model I need. Only about a third of these designs are working on the models we have. Serena, you'll wear those with the rest split between Andy and Seven," Janeway finished.

"Kathryn, we're not models," Andy objected.

"Good. I don't want models. I want women just having fun and feeling beautiful."

"Well, at least Serena's beautiful," Andy quipped.

"Does this mean you will be feeling me?" Serena shot back.

Andy chuckled and wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulders affectionately. "I'm always feeling ya, Serena."

Emily sniffed and moved a step away. "It appears you mean feeling her _up,_" she sniped.

"Me-ow," Andy giggled. "Jealous much?"

"I am not jealous," Emily defended. "You simply seem to touch Serena a great deal for someone who isn't interested in women."

"Emily, you have been hiding in the men's magazines too much," Serena chastised. "Andy is _very _interested in women. "

They all laughed as Emily's mouth dropped open.

"Come on, Em," Andy took pity on her. "You can help me re-separate the clothes between three racks instead of the five we setup earlier."

"You're actually going to do this," Emily gasped.

"Why not? It might be fun," Andy grinned, dragging the woman towards the changing area in the back they had established the previous morning. "Tell you what, I'll let you fire the models. It'll make you feel better."

"Really?" Emily's gleeful voice floated back to the remaining three, who broke into loud laughter.

"Is she always like that?" Janeway asked wiping a tear from one eye.

"No," Serena told her. "She is usually worse, but being away from Miranda these two days has mellowed her."

B'Elanna snorted. "That's mellow?"

"For Emily, it is practically comatose," Serena assured her before following after her friends.

"Miranda Priestly, I have received the first images from Cap-Kathryn Janeway."

Miranda looked up and took the file Seven was holding out. Opening it and spreading the proof sheets out on her desk, she began to study them. Seven had been right. Janeway was extremely talented. The images were perfection. She'd have a very hard time selecting the few they would actually use.

"Seven," Miranda murmured, "have Nigel come in here."

"Right here, Miranda," Nigel spoke from the doorway. "Seven called me a few minutes ago." Walking further into the room, he came to stand beside her and looked down at the proofs. "How are they? Anything usable?"

"Everything," Miranda stated, pushing the sheets closer to him. "I can't begin to narrow them down. See what you can do with them."

Nigel gathered the images back into the file and glanced at Miranda over his glasses. "How are you today?" he murmured.

Miranda started to respond then remembered Seven was still standing before her desk. "That's all, Seven." She waited until her assistant was back at her own desk before answering. "I thought having Andréa out of the office for a few days would help, give things a chance to calm down a bit. However, that is not proving to be the case."

"Well, it worked so well when she was in Ohio," Nigel remarked.

She leveled an icy stare at him. "Sarcasm is not appreciated, Nigel. If it is to be your only contribution, perhaps you would do better to take it elsewhere."

He held up a hand in surrender. "You're right. I apologize. I simply don't see how sending Andy away and replacing her with Seven will improve the situation between the two of you."

Miranda stared at him uncomprehendingly. "I did not send her away," she denied. "Nor have I replaced her. Andréa is not replaceable."

"She's not?" Nigel questioned, clearly surprised since it was well known that Miranda considered everyone at _Runway_ expendable, except herself and perhaps Nigel on a good day.

"Of course not," Miranda waved the idea away. "I cannot believe you would even suggest such a thing, Nigel. She did not appear happy with her current duties. I thought perhaps something more responsible might suit her better."

"And being a gopher for a photographer is more responsibility?" Nigel asked still clearly not following Miranda's reasoning.

"Nonsense. She is overseeing the shoot, as I intended. Seven verified that yesterday," Miranda sniffed. Really, what _was_ Nigel's problem? It was all so obvious to Miranda.

"And have you thought about when this shoot ends? Is this going to become a regular part of Andy's duties?"

"I thought she might like writing the copy for this spread and if that goes well, there is going to be an opening in editorial that she might enjoy," Miranda explained.

Surprised, Nigel pulled off his glasses and taking a tissue from his pocket cleaned them absently. "I wasn't aware that someone had resigned. Who is it?"

"I haven't decided yet," she stated, taking a sip from the glass of Pellegrino that sat ever ready on her desk.

Throwing up his hands, Nigel gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Miranda, you can't just fire someone to make a spot for Andy in that department."

She gave him a level look but didn't respond.

"Well," he backpedaled, "you can, but you shouldn't."

"Why ever not?" Miranda questioned. "Andréa will do a much better job, I'm sure, not to mention being happy in the position."

"That's the second time you've referred to Andy's happiness, or lack of it," He fixed her with his own level gaze. "Since when is Miranda Priestly concerned with the supposed happiness of her assistants?"

Miranda shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not," she denied. "Andréa is…different."

"That much is clear." Nigel rubbed his eyes. "But it does not tell me why her happiness is of such primary concern for you."

Miranda looked at him helplessly. "Why should it not be?" she asked.

It was the first thing Nigel had no answer for.


	18. Chapter 16

Music pulsed through the small studio as Serena, lost in the sounds, flowed from one pose into the next. Janeway seemed to be everywhere at once, climbing up on ladders, crawling across the set as she called out directions and compliments to the tall Brazilian the entire time. B'Elanna attempted to stay close enough to overhear Emily and Andy's conversation. They stood off to the side but out of the way of the absorbed captain.

"She's gorgeous," Andy commented to a mesmerized Emily, who had ceased her job of adjusting the accessories to Andy's outfit the moment Serena stepped before the lights. Andy fought a smile at her friend's reactions as Emily just stood and stared, periodically licking her lips. "Tasty, too," Andy added, as Emily's tongue made another quick appearance.

"Wha?" Emily shifted her gaze to Andy and blinked myopically. "Were you speaking to me?"

"Yes, Em," Andy answered patiently. "I was saying Serena looks beautiful."

Emily turned back to the object of her obsession. "She's stunning," was her succinct judgment.

"Yes, she is," Andy agreed. "So when are you going to let her know?"

Emily shot a stern look at her friend. "Let her know what?"

"That you're crazy about her," Andy said with a gentle smile.

"Nonsense," Emily replied, waving the thought away and looking more like Miranda in the response than Andy thought the other woman realized.

"Emily, I'm not blind. You can't take your eyes off her, and you're going to ruin these vintage shoes I'm wearing with the puddle of drool you're creating," Andy laughed quietly. "You're crazy about her, and Serena obviously returns the feeling, so what's stopping you?"

A hopeful look flashed across Emily's face but was just as quickly replaced by a neutral expression. "I am not foolish enough to believe anything could come of such an attraction…if one even existed outside your vivid imagination," she snapped. "Someone like Serena is far out of the league of someone like me or even you."

"_Even _me!" Andy laughed. "I think you might have actually paid me a compliment there, though admittedly it's well buried."

"Yes, well," Emily sniffed. "You're not unattractive," Emily admitted and then gave a meaningful glance to Andy's generously displayed cleavage, "if one likes such obvious overabundance."

Andy threw back her head, laughing loudly. Impulsively, she threw her arms around Emily for a hug. "Emily, don't ever change. You're absolutely adorable just the way you are."

Emily stood for a stunned moment allowing the hug before pushing Andy away with a blush. "Honestly, must you rub those bloody things all over me? And the clothes! Wrinkles, Andrea. Have you learned nothing from Miranda?"

Andy froze, her face taking on a hard, icy countenance not unlike the woman just mentioned. "Trust me, Emily. I've learned more than I ever wanted to from Miranda. Learn from the mistakes of your friends. You adore Serena, and she feels the same. Be glad you're in love with a woman who's capable of returning your feelings. Go for it. Take a risk." Andy walked toward the set without another word as Serena stepped down from the small dais, and Janeway waved her over, leaving an open-mouthed Emily staring after her.

B'Elanna stepped up beside Emily and spoke quietly. "Is Andy okay?" she asked, thinking the normally abrasive woman might be a bit more forthcoming with an oblique inquiry into the topic of her conversation with Andy.

Emily started at the interruption and shot an irritated glance at B'Elanna.

"About as okay as anyone can be when tossing out the prince to covet the dragon," Serena answered for Emily, having overhead B'Elanna's question. "But I believe you are already aware of this, B'Elanna."

Sadness shadowed B'Elanna's eyes for a moment before she nodded. "Wanting what we can't have seems to be a theme around here," she responded cryptically.

Serena shrugged one shoulder negligently. "Some want what they cannot have. Others simply do not see what is available," Serena commented with a glance at Emily before turning with a swirl of her skirt. "I must change for the next set."

The two watched her loose-limbed walk, hips swaying as she moved farther toward the back of the room. Just as she reached the doorway to the changing area, Serena turned back.

"You will help me with the zippers, Emily?" She slipped through the doorway without waiting for an answer.

"_That_ is a lot of woman," B'Elanna murmured.

Emily rounded on her with warp speed. "Do _not_ get any ideas," she snapped. "Andy turned you down. Don't think you're going to bloody well move on to Serena."

Knowing she should back down and reassure the woman, B'Elanna felt the sting to her Klingon honor. She had backed off when she found out Andy's heart was taken; she wasn't about to try anything with Serena, whose heart was similarly committed.

"Don't push me, p'taq," she snarled.

"B'Elanna!" Janeway's voice carried across the space between them with a tone that would strip duranium from a hull.

"Aye-I mean, yes, Kathryn?" B'Elanna snapped to attention, barely remembering their guises.

"Help me with these lights. Emily, don't you have something you should be doing?" Janeway's raspy purr was enough to send shivers down everyone's spine.

Andy, who had walked up behind Kathryn, murmured quietly in her ear. "I'm wondering who Emily is going to end up more afraid of, you or Miranda?"

Janeway chuckled. "Depends on who's closest to her at any given moment, I'd think. Let's get back to work."

Nigel continued to stare at Miranda unsure how to answer her. Was it wrong for her to care about Andy's happiness? No. Was it wrong for her to fire other people willy-nilly to bring that about? Well, that was a resounding yes. At least, it was to anyone who _wasn't_ Miranda Priestly. She still met his eyes, clearly waiting for an answer.

"No reason that I can think of, Miranda," he began and hurried on as she assumed a complacent look. "The question is why? Why is it so important to you that Andy be happy?"

Miranda opened and closed her mouth several times, clearly thunderstruck that she was expected to have a reason for her actions. Her mask soon fell smoothly into place, and she pursed her lips. "I _choose_ to do so. That should be sufficient for anyone."

"Miranda," Nigel gentled his tone, knowing it was wisest to tread carefully, "we've been friends a long time, since well before either of us came to _Runway_. I've never known you to act like this about anyone except…" His voice died off and his eyes widened as realization hit. "Oh!"

"O? O is a letter, Nigel," she snapped defensively.

His lips quirked for a moment but he bit back the smile quickly. "It's also an exclamation, my dear. An acknowledgement of realization, if you will."

She narrowed her eyes at him in a frigid glare that worked with everyone except Nigel who knew her too well to be frightened by her Dragon Lady persona. He had learned long ago that Miranda was only truly dangerous when hurt. True, she would strike out when angered or threatened, but if a person hurt her, she wouldn't stop until she had one Prada-clad foot resting on that person's lifeless chest. He now believed her deepest emotions were involved. It was the only thing that would explain Miranda's unreasonable reactions to Andy's withdrawal from her. Miranda was, at the very least, infatuated, and that left a huge potential for her to be hurt. That she hadn't yet realized exactly how she felt about Andy was the only thing saving all of them from a full nuclear Priestly meltdown. He wasn't about to be the one who enlightened her.

"And what, pray tell, have you realized?" she asked in a warning tone.

"That I need to narrow these photos down before the next batch arrives. If they're as good as you say, I'd better get on it." Wagging the file at her in farewell, he strolled out of the office, thankful for an easy get away. He stopped for a moment to smile at Seven. "How's our crew working out for your ex-employer?"

"They are adequate," Seven stated in her concise manner. "Kathryn Janeway seems…pleased." She hesitated a moment, her eyes flickering toward Miranda's office. "B'Elanna Torres appears to have developed an attraction to Six. They have dated on two occasions."

The sharp snap of a pencil breaking drew both their attention to Miranda, who appeared in the doorway.

"That's all, Nigel," she said in glacial tones, ignoring his arched eyebrow and worried gaze. Miranda waited until he was out of hearing range. "What is going on at that studio? I did not send my first assistant nor my other staff over there to form a harem for some photographer's assistant." She stalked back to her desk and dropped into her chair, fearing her shaking knees would no longer support her.

"B'Elanna Torres does not desire a harem. She wishes to form a single, lifetime connection. She finds Six eminently suitable as a potential mate." Seven responded in cool tones.

_Desire…lifetime…MATE! Impossible!_ Not with her Andréa. "Seven, call Roy. I want him downstairs immediately. Cancel the rest of my appointments and anything else that's on the schedule. You and I are going to that studio. That's all." Miranda was fairly hissing the words, her voice becoming softer with each syllable. She did not send Andréa over there to date some fly-by-night flunky.

Rising she stalked from her office, barely pausing to grab the coat and bag Seven held out to her. That Roy was already waiting, she neither doubted nor questioned. Seven always anticipated her needs before she could even clearly form them herself. It would have been unnerving if Miranda had stopped to think about it, but she never concerned herself when things operated smoothly. She merely expected them to be that way, only involving herself when they were not. And right now, they were not operating smoothly at all. Andréa was not behaving as she ought. Not at all. Going out on dates with that…that…._person. Her _Andréa was wasting herself on someone who could never appreciate her talents or her true beauty. Miranda had every intention of correcting that situation…immediately.


	19. Chapter 17

"Miranda Priestly," Seven's voice stopped her just as she was about to step on the elevator.

"Seven," she snapped, glaring. "I realize that you are not familiar with American phrasing, but I have told you repeatedly to simply address me as Miranda. Is that really so difficult?"

"It is not; however, it is less accurate. Neverthelrss, I will attempt to comply. There is also the matter of your meeting with the Board of Directors. It cannot be rescheduled. You must attend. Irv Ravitz will be assigning the budget for the next quarter. And you have promised your children you will be at their school this afternoon for their piano recital." Seven stood waiting for Miranda's decision whether to stay or to go.

"Why are you standing in the hallway? Where are my materials for the meeting? Must I do _everything_?" Miranda asked in an icy voice, stalking back to her office.

The tiniest of smiles quirked Seven's lips as she followed Miranda back to her desk, laying the information Miranda needed on her desk and returning to her own. Seven was beginning to have her own theory of what was wrong in this timeline, and having Miranda arrive at the shoot later in the evening would test that theorem perfectly.

The shoot had gone well, and Janeway was pleased with her decision to replace the models with the women from _Runway_. Andy and Serena's individual sets had turned out well. She expected Seven's would as well if she could get the Borg to relax just a bit. Hopefully, posing with the other two women first would help Seven to understand what was needed. Not that she wanted Seven to be too relaxed. The contrast of Seven's icy coolness against the sultriness of the other two was exactly what Janeway wanted to capture.

She smiled to herself as she sat before the computer, scanning through the images she had captured that day. Andy had questioned her use of a digital camera for all her shots the previous morning, saying that most photographers preferred film for their photographs since there was less image degradation. Janeway had patiently explained that she used software that was much more advanced than what was commonly available, so she was able to limit the degradation sufficiently to produce the images she wanted. Andy had looked doubtful but let it drop. Once she had seen the finished product when they first arrived this morning, though, Andy had grinned and complimented Kathryn on them before arranging for the proof sheets and finished images to be messengered to Miranda's office.

Now the young brunette ran around helping B'Elanna reset the lights and arrange the setting for the next part of the shoot. She seemed even more invested in the outcome now that it was her who stood in front of the camera. In fact, they all did. Emily had even volunteered to make a food run. Of course, Serena had insisted on going with her, saying they could not all survive on a couple of cheese cubes. _Whatever that meant._

Kathryn rose and wandered to the back to take another look at the clothes she would be featuring next and to try to get a more vivid image of what she wanted to do, leaving B'Elanna and Andy working in the front.

Andy watched Kathryn strolling to the back, appearing deep in thought. "She's pretty amazing with a camera," she observed to B'Elanna.

"Kathryn Janeway is pretty amazing all the time," B'Elanna smiled. "I get the feeling Miranda is as well."

"Miranda is…" Andy stopped. _What was Miranda?_ "She's Miranda," she finished with a shrug. "I'm not sure there's any way to describe her that would make you understand without having been around her a while."

B'Elanna nodded. "Janeway's a lot like that. She's tough as nails, all by the book, but there's this other side to her as well. Like with me, she didn't have to take a chance on me. Everything I'd done to that point would have made any sane person run the other way, but Janeway…well, she saw something no one else did, I guess. She gave me a lot of responsibility and a chance to do something I really love. Not many would have done that."

"Miranda wouldn't have," Andy muttered with a sigh. "She'd have fired you or stuck you where she wanted you without any thought to what it meant for you."

B'Elanna laughed. "Don't get me wrong. Janeway put me in that position because she needed me there. I had the skills she needed. Unfortunately, those skills came with a lot of baggage that made selecting me a risky option. She had to think about it long and hard."

Would Miranda have made the same choice? Andy didn't think so. "What would you have done if she hadn't picked you?"

A cocky grin accompanied B'Elanna's answer. "Found my own way. But, honestly, I'm better for it this way. I had a lot of anger, a lot of growing up to do. I wouldn't have done it without Janeway."

Andy rested a hand on B'Elanna's shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze. "I'm sure you would have," she said.

"No, I can promise you I wouldn't. A few things have happened recently that let me know I wouldn't have. There's no doubt in my mind that I wouldn't be the same person without Kathryn Janeway's influence," B'Elanna assured her with a wry grin.

Scrubbing her hands over her face, Andy sighed. "Miranda has definitely been an influence on my life, but I'm not so sure it's been a good one. I probably should have left before now, but something always deflects me back to sticking it out, getting my full year in. Then I can go anywhere in publishing and get a job. A recommendation from Miranda is like being platinum-plated in this business. I can't just walk out on that, as much as I might want to at times."

"Who said you have to walk out?" B'Elanna asked curiously. "You've been promoted to first assistant. You almost have that year you want. I'd think you could just submit a resignation and leave on decent terms. Miranda must think well of you since she put you on this shoot she needs to save the layout."

Andy stared at the other woman stunned. She'd never thought of it in those terms. She could submit a resignation now and leave in a professional manner. She could get on with her life and do so with her dignity intact. It no longer took just walking away to make a statement. She grabbed at B'Elanna's shoulder again as her knees weakened under a sudden surge of relief. It could be over soon. She could finally be free and give her heart a chance to heal. Admittedly, it would only shorten her time at _Runway_ by a matter of weeks, but still…

"I could do that, couldn't I?" she gasped.

B'Elanna slung an arm around Andy's waist to support her. "Yes, you could," she assured her, though her concern for Andy was clear in her voice.

Andy straightened as strength flowed back into her shaky limbs, her megawatt smile bursting forth. "And I'm going to do just that when this shoot wraps tomorrow. I'll type it up tonight and hand it in as soon as I get back to the office. I want to do this personally. I'd say let's celebrate with champagne but since I still have to be coherent enough to stand in front of that camera, I'll make a coffee run instead."

B'Elanna laughed. "For Janeway, that _is_ celebrating."

Clackers rushed around corners, slid into closets or under desks, anything to get out of sight. Word had gone out that Miranda was stalking the halls and in the mood for an eruption that would put Vesuvius to shame with its destructive power. No one wanted to be in her path. What had set the Dragon Lady of fashion off no one knew, nor did anyone care to ask. It was self-preservation time and that meant every clacker for herself. The only person _not_ hiding was Seven, who seemed impervious to the fashion queen's ire, though plenty of it was cast her way.

"Annika," Miranda called in a voice that was so soft as to be at an almost sub-human hearing range. She had intentionally used her assistant's given name.

Seven appeared before her desk and arched an eyebrow. "As you are aware that is not my preferred designation, I can only assume you are 'killing the messenger,' Miranda Priestly. How may I assist you?"

"Fine, _Seven_," Miranda gave the name an evil twist. "Then you will return the gesture and call me Miranda and _only _Miranda." She was going to get her way in _something_ today.

"I will comply…Miranda," Seven agreed, then stood waiting, hands linked behind her back.

"What?" Miranda snarled, thoroughly irritated by the day, the conversation, and everyone associated with both.

"I did not call you…Miranda. You called me," Seven offered helpfully.

"I…" Miranda stopped suddenly realizing she'd forgotten why she had called Seven into her office. "That's all," she snapped. _How was she expected to get anything done with these constant interruptions? _Really, did Seven have nothing more to do than stand around in Miranda's office? She would simply have to find more work for her assistants if that was the case. Andréa had far too much free time on her hands that much was obvious, especially if she had time to go on dates with just anyone who asked. Yes, Miranda would definitely have to correct that situation.

Looking at the time on her monitor, she growled softly. As much as she wanted to go to Janeway's studio immediately, she was forced to wait. It would soon be time to leave and head to Dalton for her girls' recital. She had promised, and she tried never to break promises to them nor for that matter make ones she could not keep. Miranda was determined to get to that studio before the day was out, though, and things had better be as she wanted them. Otherwise, she'd show them all just what a dragon Miranda Priestly really could be.

Mentally framing the resignation she would write later that night, Andy stood near the counter of the Starbucks nearest the studio, waiting for her order to be prepared. She wanted to phrase it just right so it left no doubt as to _why_ she was leaving Miranda's employ without actually revealing her true feelings for the woman. It also needed to be apparent to Miranda while slipping under the radar of HR. She jotted notes into the memo application of her phone when a particularly good phrase came to mind. With each word her spirits became that much lighter, buoyed by the knowledge that she would soon be far from the source of her torment.

_But is that really what I want? To be far away from Miranda, to never see her again, never hear her voice_?Andy stared down at the phrases she had typed. Leaving Miranda was going to hurt. There was no doubt about that, but how much more would it hurt to see her every day and be subjected to Miranda's scathing lectures, each word cutting into Andy's heart as a reminder of just how much Miranda _didn't_ care about her as a person or a woman? No, Andy had to leave. Maybe if she wrote the resignation just right, it would wake Miranda up to how her words and actions actually affected people.

"Well, hello," a warm voice interrupted her thoughts. "We do seem to keep bumping into each other. Not stalking me, are you?" The gentle chuckle that followed revealed the joke behind his words.

Andy turned to smile at the man she continually seemed to run across lately. "Like you said, small world, I guess. How've you been?"

"Good, good," he answered jovially. "How's the job coming? Things getting better?"

"Much better," Andy responded, her smile growing. "I've decided to resign and move on."

"Really?" He seemed amazed by her decision. "You didn't strike me as the type to admit defeat so easily, but I guess we all have our limits. Smart of you to realize when it's too much for you. Probably for the best that you quit, if that's true." He glanced toward the counter as an order was called for pick-up. "Well, that's me. You have a good evening." He smiled, took his cup from the counter and left the coffee shop.

Andy stared at the door he had just passed through. Was that what she was doing? Admitting defeat? Acknowledging that she was beaten and Miranda had won? _Not in this lifetime,_ Andy thought and pressed her thumb firmly on the backspace key, deleting all that she had typed previously. She'd make it to the end of her year and win on her own terms. Miranda Priestly be damned.

More determined than ever, Andy stepped forward to take her two trays of coffee, one cup for each of them and two for Janeway, not unlike her normal orders for _Runway_. Pity Miranda wasn't more like the photographer. They could both be hard when it came to getting what they wanted, but at least Janeway seemed to have a heart.

Miranda sat through the recital, applauding politely after each performance and more exuberantly for her own girls' duet. They really were quite talented, though it was Caroline who excelled on the piano. Cassidy's interests leaned toward more physically challenging pursuits, but she diligently practiced the piano if only to please her mother and sister. Therefore, she was quite good technically, but lacked the emotional presence while playing that her sister seemed to create so effortlessly. Miranda often wondered if Caroline would make a career of her music. She had both the talent and the drive necessary to do so.

Miranda smiled and embraced both her daughters once they ran up to her after the performance. "Hello, my darlings. You were wonderful," she complimented them.

Cassidy grinned up at her mother. "Caro was wonderful. I made it through without any mistakes," she corrected.

"As I said, wonderful," Miranda smiled, planting a kiss on each of their foreheads. "You both played to the best of your abilities and that is always the most any mother can hope for and be proud of." She truly loved her daughters and was proud of all their efforts. She never wanted them to have any doubts about that and was determined they would have the security that had been sorely lacking in her own childhood.

"Thanks, Mom," Caroline smiled, secure in the knowledge that at least her mother loved her and could be counted on to keep her promises.

"Did you see Andy today?" Cassidy asked, never one to use tact if there was something she wanted to know and a direct question could get to the heart of the matter sooner.

"No, I did not," Miranda replied stiffening. "Andréa is not in the office at this time, as you well know." She tried to keep her voice gentle, but really, this was neither the time nor the place for this discussion.

"You promised," Cassidy reminded with an accusing stare.

"I did _not_ promise," Miranda corrected her. "I said I would speak with her if I had the time. I have not had that time as of yet."

"Mom, you're the boss. You can make time," Cassidy explained patiently.

"This is not a work related conversation you wish me to have, Cassidy. I cannot simply call a halt to the business day to have it, surely you understand that?" Miranda hedged. Truthfully, she didn't want to have it at all, foreseeing only a disastrous result given Andréa's current attitude towards her employer. One look into Cassidy's pleading eyes was all it took for Miranda to capitulate. She could never refuse her girls anything they wanted badly enough and after all, she was planning to go to Janeway's studio after the recital anyway. There would likely be a moment she could speak with Andréa. "Very well," she sighed. "I will be stopping at the photo studio next. I will talk to Andréa if time permits, but I cannot guarantee the outcome."

"I want to come, too," Cassidy insisted. "I can talk to Andy while you do your business stuff."

Miranda sighed, knowing she would likely not refuse Cassidy's request but hesitant to agree without knowing what was actually going on at the studio. She did not want her daughter present if there was licentious behavior taking place. Her eyes narrowed and her fists clenched behind her girls' backs at the thought of her Andréa involved in such things. She would allow Cassidy to go, but she must wait in the car until Miranda ascertained what was happening in that studio first. She gave a nod of agreement and smiled when Cassidy cheered.

"You coming, too, Caro?" Cassidy asked her sister.

"No, I'd rather go home. I've got a lot of homework and I should get started on it," Caroline replied, stepping away from her mother and sister. "You go. I'll see you both at home."

Cassidy frowned at her sister. "You sure?"

"Yes. Go on. Our driver's outside waiting. I'll be fine. I just really need to get started on homework," Caroline insisted.

The twins gathered their things and the three walked to the car that would take Caroline home. After instructing the driver to be sure he waited until her daughter was safely inside the townhouse before leaving, Miranda and Cassidy settled themselves into the other car. Telling Roy to take them to Janeway's studio, Miranda became wrapped in her own thoughts, as did Cassidy. By the time they reached the studio Miranda was once again furious and after instructing Cassidy to remain in the car until sent for, she stalked across the sidewalk and into the building.


	20. Chapter 18

"Miranda's already left for the day?" Nigel asked, holding up the folder he held. "I've got the photo recommendations for her."

"That is correct," Seven responded offering no other information.

He stood watching as she focused her attention on the small unit she held in one hand, the fingers of the other flying over the tiny input pad almost faster than he could follow. "Everything okay with her?" he asked. "She seemed a little upset when I was here earlier." Seven was nice enough but not what he'd call friendly, not like Andy. She wasn't as abrasive as Emily could be. No, coolly efficient was the best way to describe her. Still, he hoped she'd be a little more forthcoming with Miranda out of the office.

"Miranda Priestly appeared displeased that Six has dated B'Elanna Torres on two occasions. I believe she intends to 'check out' Kathryn Janeway's studio after her children's school function," Seven informed him without stopping her work.

"Did you warn Andy that Miranda is headed over there?" he asked. He knew Seven was a cool customer, but he was surprised at how calmly she was acting over something that likely had Miranda ready to dine on Clacker Flambé. If Nigel was right about the way Miranda felt about Andy, then finding out she was dating someone else was not going to make their illustrious leader very happy, to say the least. He had been more than happy to get out of Miranda's office when she had dismissed him earlier. He cringed to think what Miranda would do if she walked in on Andy and B'Elanna sharing even the most innocent of romantic interactions.

"I did not. I am going there myself in 10.4 of your minutes. I will observe Miranda's actions for myself at that time," Seven replied, still engrossed in her handheld.

Nigel propped his elbow on his crossed arm and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You _want_ to see Andy and B'Elanna get killed?" he mumbled, unable to believe what she'd just said.

"Miranda Priestly, while extremely intimidating, is not capable of damaging B'Elanna Torres in a physical altercation. B'Elanna Torres has a _unique_ physiology and is more than a match for Miranda Priestly. Her honor will also require that she protect Six from undue harm." Seven looked up as Nigel rubbed both hands briskly over his face. "Are you unwell, Nigel Kipling?" she inquired with a concerned tone.

"Seven, we're really going to have to enroll you in ESL classes," he responded. At her intrigued look, he waved the comment away. "Later. Put this on Miranda's desk, please. I need to finish a few things up, and then I think I'll check out this studio for myself." Not that he was looking forward to stepping between Miranda and the object of her anger, but someone had to make sure no one ended up in jail or the hospital. The duty seemed to fall to him, unfortunately.

Seven had arrived at the studio shortly after Miranda left _Runway_ to attend her daughters' recital. Having received a message from Janeway earlier in the day, Seven knew what was expected of her but wasn't so sure she could fulfill Janeway's wishes. She had seen models posing during her brief tenure as Miranda's assistant and was apprehensive of being able to mimic the necessary emotions. Knowledge of ashion modeling was not part of the Borg collective's vast database.

Emily had poked and prodded her into various outfits until Seven had resorted to clenching her Borg hand to keep herself from assimilating the irritating woman. Only a warning glance from B'Elanna had kept the urge in check. That is until Seven noticed the way Janeway kept looking at her as if unable to tear her eyes away whenever she thought Seven wasn't aware. As the captain once more slid her gaze the length of Seven's body and back, the Borg decided to test a personal theory she had begun to develop. She inhaled deeply, intentionally expanding her chest to which Janeway's eyes flew and remained. _Interesting,_ Seven thought as she accessed her cortical node and evaluated the captain's physiological responses. _Very interesting indeed. _

Seven continued her evaluation moments later when she found herself posed with Andy and Serena, each clad in similarly revealing clothing. As Janeway focused her camera on each in turn, Seven assessed the captain's reaction to the visual stimuli. She noted no significant changes when Janeway was photographing the other two women, but a noticeable jump when the lens turned her way. Seven felt warmth seep through her body as she registered the affect that looking at her was having on Janeway.

Another costume change to an even more miniscule outfit, and they were all once again on the dais. This time posed in a tighter grouping, Andy leaned back against a wall, with her left side toward Janeway while Serena a step away, leaning toward Andy suggestively. Seven stood to the side, facing out with her arm draped on the wall near Andy's head, and she, too, leaned in with the other two framing her between them. The pose allowed for all three dresses to be shown fully but added a heightened sense of the erotic to the staging.

Andy looked down at the tiny bodice held up only by the tiniest of straps, the material barely covering her nipples, and smirked. "One deep breath and we'll be shooting for _Playboy_," she quipped.

Serena giggled. "If a deep breath is_ your_ concern, Seven will have to stop breathing all together," she joked.

Seven looked down at her own plentiful breasts. "Indeed, I have the larger breasts, but Six has the more precarious angle," she observed.

"Thank heavens I'm still young enough they don't end up under my arms when I lean back," Andy poked fun at herself.

"Something for you to look forward to and another reason I am glad mine are not so large," Serena smirked at her friend.

"Hey, these babies get attention," Andy defended herself.

"I am beautiful," Serena stated once again. "My breasts are noticed second."

"Modest, too," Andy gave her standard reply with a grin.

"It is only the truth," Serena shrugged negligently as she always did when they had this particular exchange.

"Bloody hell, Andrea," Emily's voice carried over to them as she drew closer. "Must you always be ogling Serena's goods?"

"When they're so generously displayed, Em, it would be rude not to," Andy shot back, smirking.

Seven watched them with an arched eyebrow. Such exchanges between her and B'Elanna in the past had always instigated near brawls. Her eyes sought out B'Elanna who appeared to be noticing the same thing. The Klingon gave her a small smile and a shrug. Perhaps things would be different now between them.

"Ladies, as pleasant as this is, we need to get back to work," Janeway called for their attention. "These clothes are romantic, but also highly erotic so I want to see some serious desire here." She smiled at Seven, clearly amused by the perplexity that Seven was sure showed clearly as it was what she felt. "Try thinking about someone you've fantasized about. That might help," she offered.

Alterations to the physiological information from the two women nearest her that Seven was subconsciously registering told her that they each had a name immediately, as had she. Unaware that she had spoken just loudly enough for the other two to hear, her sensitive hearing registered the name each spoke.

"Emily," Serena whispered.

"Miranda," Andy murmured.

"Kathryn," Seven breathed with them.

She shared a glance with the other two, observing their faint blushes as having revealed their innermost secrets. The faint warmth of her own facial epidermis told Seven that she shared in this reaction as well, a unique response that she filed away for later thought.

"Let's do this," Andy said.

Seven turned her thoughts inwards, allowing her eidetic memory to delve into images of her captain in their most private shared moments.

"All right, look my way," Janeway called as she focused through her camera.

Seven noted that Janeway did not take the picture but rather, looked over the top of the camera to meet her own eyes. Her captain appeared stunned by what she saw. Her cortical node registered the actions of those around her while she never took her eyes from Janeway allowing all she felt for the dynamic woman to show for the first time.

B'Elanna Torres stared at Andy, while Emily Charleton stood as if mesmerized at the edge of the set. "Shoot the picture! Shoot the picture!" Emily Charleton kept hissing between mutters of, "Bloody glorious."

Seven saw Janeway's finger move pressing the button on her camera and just holding it down as the shutter activated over and over while she stared open-mouthed through the viewfinder.

It was at that moment Miranda walked in.

Miranda pushed open the door and stepped quietly in so as not to announce her arrival. Her eyebrows shot up at the sight of her Andréa leaning against a wall and staring lustfully at Janeway while Serena and Seven virtually attacked her. The pose was indecent, and the clothes were indecent, never mind that she had selected them herself. She certainly hadn't chosen them for Andréa to parade around in essentially naked for the entire world to see. Furious, she stalked farther into the room.

"What the hell is going on here?" Miranda snapped in a tone louder than any of her employees had heard her previously use. "I do not recall having contracted for pornography." She advanced on Janeway. "Explain to me why Andréa is standing there naked with those _women_ rubbing all over her!"

Patiently, Janeway lowered the camera and turned to the irate woman. "Andy is _not_ naked, and she looks a good deal better in that dress than that stick you sent me to shoot. If you'd look at the images, you'd see what I mean."

"I have no desire to see Andréa with her breasts hanging out, nor do I intend to put such a thing in my magazine," Miranda replied haughtily.

Andy pushed Serena away from her and stalked over to the arguing women. "And what exactly is _wrong _with my breasts?" she roared at Miranda, clearly stung by her comment.

"There is nothing wrong with them, Andréa. They are simply not meant for public consumption," Miranda informed her, trying hard not to fixate on the breasts in question.

"Excuse me, Miranda, but the last time I checked, they were _my_ breasts. If I want them consumed, it's _my_ decision," Andy snapped thrusting her decidedly desirable décolletage under Miranda's nose.

Miranda simply stared at the pale, tempting mounds so close to her mouth losing the battle with herself now that it was unavoidable. She now fought to refrain from licking her lips or the flesh so enticing close to her tongue. If she leaned forward the smallest bit she could snake her tongue under the material barely covering them and stroke Andréa's nipple which pressed against the fabric. "Will you _please_ show some decorum and cover yourself?" she rasped in a hoarse voice, fighting every instinct that told her to take what was seemingly offered.

"There is nothing wrong with the way I'm dressed, Miranda. You're not exactly prudish about naked women walking around in front of you. What's the problem? Can't stand the sight of 'the fat girl' showing a little skin?" Andy jeered, clearly too furious to edit her words. "Maybe you'd prefer it if you never had to see me at all. You made that clear enough shipping me over here first chance you got. Well, I can make it easy for you, Miranda. You can have my resignation. It'll be on your desk in the morning, first thing."

"That would be your solution," Miranda shot back, her own anger getting the better of her. "Running away like the child you are."

"Child!" Andy screeched. "I'll have you know I'm fully grown, Miranda. Isn't that what you were just complaining about? My overly large breasts sticking in your face? Those don't come on children, Miranda. Not that I'd expect you to notice."

"I notice many things, Andréa. Including the rather_ tasteless_ display you are making of yourself at the moment," Miranda responded in a tone that sent a shiver down even Janeway's spine, who was watching the two in wide-eyed wonder.

"Oh, you haven't seen tasteless yet, lady. Stick around and watch how the lower classes get it on," Andy snarled before turning on her heel and stalking back towards the dais.

"You will _never_ appear in _Runway_, Andréa," Miranda called after her in a last ditch attempt to stop whatever Andréa was planning.

"There's always _Playboy_. They _like_ big tits over there!" Andy shouted back as she yanked the bodice of her dress down and grabbed Serena by the neck, pulling her friend's face between her breasts. Oblivious to Emily's squawk of protest, Andy looked at Janeway. "Shoot the pictures, Kathryn!"

Shrugging, Janeway raised her camera.

"Take so much as one image of Andréa in that position, and I will personally feed you that camera," Miranda hissed more furious than she could ever remember being, both by the things Andréa had said as well as the sight of another woman's face pressed to _her_ Andréa's breasts. "And, Serena, I would recommend you remove yourself from that position…at once!" her low voice carried with deadly intent to the woman in question.

With a mumbled apology for deserting her friend, Serena stepped away from Andy, holding up her hands to show they were nowhere near any part of Andy's anatomy. Andy stood trembling, angry tears evident in her eyes.

"You may frighten the rest, Miranda, but I'm not afraid of you. Not anymore," Andy shouted as the tears began to roll down her cheeks. "I'm free of you. Finally and at last, I'm free. There is nothing you can do to me that will ever alter my sheer relief at that one fact."

"Fine. You're free. Congratulations. Let's see how you celebrate with no job or income," Miranda sneered, responding to the pain Andréa's last words had inflicted. "You'll be back in East Podunk writing for some yellow rag telling enthralling stories about J-Lo's alien love child in no time. That is what you wanted, isn't it? To write? I was going to give you that. It was planned, but now I'll make sure you _never_ write anything more important than a grocery list." Miranda fairly vibrated with suppressed rage. "You have _insulted_ me, but more, you have _hurt_ my children, and for that I will never forgive you. I will _destroy _you, Andréa Sachs."

Janeway dropped the camera and reached out for something, anything to hold herself upright. Wave after wave of dizziness poured over her, drowning her in inky blackness, and she was swept into the depths.

"Captain!" Seven cried hoarsely as her own body ceased to function, and she crumpled to the floor, conscious but unable to move.


	21. Chapter 19

B'Elanna tilted her head back and inhaled deeply, her keen senses sampling the air in the room. Her eyes fixed on the bare-breasted woman on the raised platform. _Andy. _ The name came to B'Elanna with ease, though she was not aware of how she had come by that knowledge. Fury rolled from this Andy in waves, anger steeped in the delicious scent of arousal. A magnificent woman, standing straight and proud, glorious in her half-nude state, she wore her fury like a cloak of honor. _Truly a suitable parmaqiai for a Klingon warrior, _B'Elanna thought. _To be betrothed to such a one would bring great honor_. B'Elanna took an instinctive step forward to claim this woman only to halt at the realization that this woman was not for her. She felt a strong feeling of friendship for the woman and somehow knew Andy's heart was already committed to the white-haired_ pIntIn,_ Miranda, a formidable warrior in her own right. Even now, the strands of anger and lust wove around and between them. Were they Klingon their mating would be a foregone conclusion, but their human natures did not perceive the fiery emotion between them as love. Theirs would be a glorious joining. _jachchoHmeh 'Iwrej penaghtaH!_ B'Elanna sent them a silent blessing. Mate until your blood screams.

The air reeked of pheromones and adrenaline, and B'Elanna felt her blood fever awaken in response. She glanced at the two women on the floor. _Janeway and Seven,_ her mind whispered. B'Elanna could sense their life forces ebbing. Though Janeway was _joH_ of B'Elanna's House, she could do nothing to save her, nor could she help Seven. Valiant warriors both, she would sing of their glorious deeds, tell stories of their great victories, and roar to announce their entry into Sto'Vo'Kor. Though they did not follow the Way of Kahless, they had earned the right to be so honored with their courage and fearlessness. B'Elanna would see that their lives were celebrated and embark on a quest in their names to prove their worthiness to enter Sto'Vo'Kor and stand at the side of Kahless. Knowing she could do nothing for them until the time of their passing, and consumed by the rising blood fever, she turned to the other two women in the room.

The red-head at her side, _Emily,_ was fixated on the verbal battle between Andy and Miranda. B'Elanna sniffed and curled her lips in disgust. This one smelt of fear, not suitable as a Klingon bride at all. But the other one, who stood closest to Andy, she was a magnificent creature. There was no fear in this one, though she held her hands up in gesture of surrender. In fact, she seemed amused by the warring women. As if privy to a joke no one else knew or had realized. Such a one could bring honor to any Klingon House.

B'Elanna growled low in her throat and bared her teeth. She advanced towards the tall blonde with her right hand extended, prepared to enter the mating ritual with an overture of personal combat. "_HIghoS_!" she shouted, summoning the woman to her. _Serena. _ Once again B'Elanna's mind provided a name she was not conscious of knowing. "_HIghoS_, Serena!"

B'Elanna watched as Serena, who had knelt beside the fallen Seven, glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening. A feral grin curled B'Elanna's lips as she came to stand over the kneeling woman. "I will have you as my _be'nal_. It will be a glorious wedding night with many bones broken," B'Elanna promised, thumping her chest with one closed fist.

"You bleeding bitch!" Emily screeched, running forward.

B'Elanna couldn't help but be impressed by how quickly the woman moved in her ridiculous shoes. The previous stink of fear about her had been replaced by anger and the reek of jealousy. "You wish to challenge me for the woman," B'Elanna chuckled, amused by the idea.

"I'll bloody well wring your neck," Emily snarled.

"I will enjoy this." B'Elanna clenched her fists ready to throw a sharp punch to the woman's mouth.

"B'Elanna Torres, _ghobe'_," Seven shouted.

"No?" B'Elanna roared, irritated at having her fun interrupted. "She has challenged me. Honor requires I tear her into targ fodder."

"This woman is not meant to be your _be'nal_," Seven stated with a nod toward Serena. "You must look elsewhere, among your own House. Your honor is best served by helping your_ joH._"

"I am not a healer," B'Elanna spat. "What would you have me do?"

"Activate the ring, B'Elanna Torres," Seven instructed.

B'Elanna frowned, and she held up her hands. "I have no…ring?" She stared at the strange gold band on her right hand. _Where did that come from? I don't wear a ring._

"The notch. Use your thumbnail to trigger the notch. You must hurry. You must save the captain."

_What was wrong with Seven's voice?_ With each word there was less emotion reflected in the tones until they had sounded almost mechanical at the end. What's happening here? There's something terribly wrong. Finding the notch in her ring that Seven spoke of, B'Elanna pressed her nail into it.

The doctor materialized near the back of the room, only drawing everyone's attention when he spoke. "Please state the nature of the me…"

"Tend to the _joH_!" B'Elanna snapped imperiously. She watched him closely as he hurried to Janeway, affixed a small metal device to the fallen captain's neck and activated it. Convinced she had done all she could, B'Elanna turned back to Emily. "I will grind you beneath my heel," she snarled.

"And I'll skewer you with mine!" Emily threatened, taking off her shoe and holding it with the heel pointed out as a weapon. "Keep your bleeding hands off _my _woman!"

"B'Elanna, stand down," Janeway's raspy voice carried across the room.

B'Elanna grabbed at her head as a blinding pain tore through it. "_qaStah nug_?" she shouted.

"What's happening is that your body just shifted back into temporal phase, Lieutenant," the doctor supplied.

"That'll be enough, Doctor," Janeway snapped as she attempted to stand on shaky legs.

"Captain! You need to rest," he cautioned, pressing down on her shoulder to hold her in place.

"I need to make sure Seven's all right," Janeway snapped, shoving his hand away.

"I'll see to Seven as soon as I make sure you're recovering," he tried again to restrain her.

"You'll get your hands off me, Doctor, or I'll have B'Elanna remove them from your programming," Janeway ordered, rolling over and onto her knees.

"Captain, do not concern yourself. I am…fine. My limbs are reactivating," Seven assured her.

Janeway's head dropped for a moment and then, with a bracing breath, she rose unsteadily to her feet.

"Would someone please tell me what in the bloody hell is going on around here?" Miranda's voice cut through the room with icy intent.

Still furious from her confrontation with Andréa, Miranda seethed as Janeway ignored her and started toward the dais on shaky legs.

"Andy, cover your breasts, please," Janeway said as she made her way to Seven.

"Yes, Kathryn," Andy responded and pulled the bodice of her dress back into place, tying the straps behind her neck.

Miranda could almost feel the steam rising from her collar. _How dare that woman order her Andréa around! And how dare Andréa obey her!_ Incensed, Miranda stalked over to the dais. "Who do you think you are ordering _my_ staff to do anything," she hissed in an icily low tone.

"Get over it, Miranda," Janeway growled. "I don't have time for petty concerns." She knelt at Seven's side, ignoring the gasps from the _Runway_ group. "Are you all right, Seven?"

"I am functioning," Seven responded calmly. "You will assist me to rise, B'Elanna Torres."

B'Elanna extended a hand and pulled Seven to her feet with a grunt. "Maybe you should try a few of Emily's cheese cubes," she joked.

"I do not believe that would decrease my weight significantly, as you well know, B'Elanna Torres…though perhaps such a meal would benefit you," Seven shot back.

With a crooked grin, B'Elanna leaned forward and spoke just loud enough for Seven's Borg enhanced hearing to register. "One day, Borg. Pow!"

"You will fail, Klingon," Seven murmured.

"Ladies," Janeway interrupted, chuckling. "Did either of you notice what happened?"

"I believe the temporal distortion was triggered by Miranda Priestly's threat to destroy Six," Seven answered.

B'Elanna nodded her agreement. "That's the last thing I remember before I started channelling my mother."

"I had suspected that the rift between Miranda Priestly and Six was the cause of the temporal variances," Seven continued.

Janeway rubbed the back of her neck. "Yes, I was beginning to think the same thing. So how do we fix it?"

"You people will never work in this industry again," Miranda interrupted before Seven could reply. "Any _career_ you might have will end as of tonight."

Janeway threw up her hands and rounded on the other woman. "I hate to break it to you, Miranda, but you have _no impact_ on my career one way or the other, so why don't you back off and let me talk to _my_ staff."

"How dare you!" Miranda drew herself up, giving Janeway her iciest gaze.

"I dare a lot right now," Janeway growled, fixing Miranda with her hottest Force 10 glare.

Nigel hurried down the street toward Kathryn Janeway's studio. He had hoped to get there sooner but a last minute problem in the Art Department that would have delayed the Book had held him up. Once he had found the missing layout and gotten it to the correct person, he had decided it would be quicker to just walk the several blocks. Now he was hoping that Miranda hadn't done too much damage to her relationship with Andy. He barely glanced at the town car as he passed it, so he didn't see Cassidy peeking out of a partially open window.

Throwing open the door to the studio he stepped inside and swore he could see steam rising between Miranda and Kathryn as they stood locked in a stare down. He couldn't recall ever having seen Miranda look so furious, nor Kathryn for that matter, though he didn't know her as well. He started to speak and then thought better of it. Perhaps the best move would be to minimize the potential for collateral damage.

Catching Emily's eye, he gestured for her to take the others to the back. Sticking close to the wall, he followed his friends. He'd find out what was going on from them. Whatever it was it looked like Miranda and Kathryn needed to have this out between them. He just hoped the bloodshed would be minimal and that he wouldn't be delivering the Book to Ryker's Island for the foreseeable future.

Once everyone was in the back, leaving Kathryn and Miranda to finish their stare down, Nigel looked at the others over his glasses. "Anyone care to tell their uncle Nigel what's going on around here?" he asked, then wished he hadn't as they all started talking at once, except Seven who watched the rest with a lifted eyebrow and Serena who could barely contain her amusement.

The other three were talking so fast and so hotly that all he caught was something about Andy's breasts, a bleeding cow hitting on Serena, and Emily having delusions of grandeur thinking she was a match for B'Elanna. Holding up a hand, he shouted for quiet. "Enough! Seven, Serena, do you think one of you could tell me what happened, calmly and without all the histrionics?"

He listened as the two alternated telling the story, filling in as many details as they were able, which with Seven involved was a great many indeed. Removing his glasses, he rubbed his eyes, unsurprised at the headache that had begun to pound behind them. Folding his glasses he tucked them into an inside pocket of his jacket and stared at the other three while shaking his head. Andy had a decidedly sheepish look, while Emily and B'Elanna both stood with their arms crossed defiantly over their chests and glared at each other.

"Andy, what possessed you to bare all in front of Miranda?" he asked at last, still unable to quite believe that part of the story. Such an action was totally unlike the Andy Sachs he knew. She'd practically died of embarrassment in a room full of models wearing lingerie, for heaven's sake.

"It wasn't _all_, Nigel. Just…" She gestured to the upper half of her body which even with the bodice firmly in place was barely covered. With it released she would have been nude to the waist.

He could only imagine what that had done to Miranda's libido feeling as she did about Andy. Miranda must have felt incredibly exposed herself and for Andy to say she was relieved to be free of Miranda - he shuddered as he thought of the pain that would have caused her. Miranda in pain could be incredibly vicious. It was no wonder she threatened to destroy the woman she loved. Unfortunately, he wasn't convinced Miranda wouldn't do just that.

"Six, you have no idea what you may have unleashed," he sighed.

Andy joined Emily and B'Elanna in their pose, crossing her arms defiantly. "I can't say that I really care, Nigel."

"Well, you'd better care and do so quickly," he advised. "You have no idea how badly you've hurt Miranda."

"Hurt Miranda?" Andy repeated, shocked. "No one can hurt Miranda. She'd have to care first, and she's not capable of that."

"Dammit, Andy, how many times do I have to tell you to grow up?" Nigel snapped, finally having had enough. "That woman in there is in love with you. You wouldn't believe what she has gone through lately trying to find a way to get you to just smile at her again. Get your head out of your ass and wake up before you lose any chance at the best thing that might ever happen to you, if you haven't already."

"She…I..Miranda? Love? Me?" Andy squeaked pointing a finger at her own chest. "Oh, shit. I need to sit down." She waved a hand in thanks as B'Elanna swung a chair under her a second before she would have collapsed to the floor.

"And as for you," he rounded on Emily, holding up a hand to stop her when she would have spoken. "No, you shut up until I'm done. You're worse than Andy. I can half understand her blindness. God knows, Miranda is hard to read on a good day, but you don't even have that excuse. Serena has done everything short of wrapping her legs around your head to get you to see she wants to be with you. Are you that obtuse or just too damned scared to take a chance? Whichever it is, get over it, Emily. Serena is possibly the most patient person I've ever met, outside of Seven here, and even _she _isn't going to wait forever for you!" He threw up his hands and paced back and forth for a moment before turning to them all again. "Fix this!" he shouted, missing the amused look that passed between Seven and B'Elanna, as well as their subtle nod of agreement.


	22. Chapter 20

Janeway and Miranda were still locked in their battle of wills when a shouted, "Fix it!" from the back startled them both.

"What the—"Janeway snapped.

"Nigel," Miranda replied by way of explanation.

Janeway sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. This was getting her nowher,e and whatever Nigel was referring to back there, his shouted command was a reminder to her to get on with it. "Would you like to tell me why my telling Andy to do something you had already made clear you wanted her to do would upset you so much?"

"Would you care to tell me why you so dramatically draped yourself across the linoleum?" Miranda countered.

Rolling her eyes, Janeway threw up her hands. "You're _almost _as irritating as my younger sister."

"Give me a moment. I constantly improve," Miranda bit out, glaring.

Janeway was unable to stop another eye roll. "I'll just bet you do. "

"Roll your eyes at me one more time and I will ensure the next time they roll across the floor," Miranda growled, her spine stiffening. "Whatever is between Andréa and me is no one else's business but our own."

"You barging in here tonight and interrupting my shoot made it mine," Janeway corrected.

"I don't recall telling you to use Andréa in such a reprehensible manner. I sent her here in good faith to assist you, not to be _mauled_ by her co-workers," Miranda stated coldly, drawing her haughtiness around herself like a cloak.

"No one was mauling…you're in love with her," Janeway realized suddenly. As unlikely as it seemed, Miranda Priestly was in love with her much younger assistant. It explained everything. And Miranda standing there simply staring back told Janeway she was right. "Why haven't you told her?" she asked gently.

Miranda's laugh was bitter. "You heard her. She despises me. Why would I set myself up for that kind of humiliation?"

Janeway's lips quirked. "What I saw was a young woman lashing out to try to get your attention any way she could."

Miranda's eyes widened, and Janeway was struck by how much the color reminded her of her mother's eyes, that same smoky blue. The similarity struck a chord, and Janeway suddenly wanted to help this difficult woman, for Miranda's sake as much as anyone's. She could almost see the moment when Miranda denied the possibility to herself that Andy felt the same way.

"Why would you say that?" Miranda almost whispered. "What do you have to gain from it?"

_My very existence,_ Janeway thought, even as she said, "I have nothing to gain. I'm simply telling you how I interpreted what I saw tonight. I've become aware over the last two days that Andy has very strong emotions toward you, and while they do appear to be negative ones, I think there's more to it than that. She's been with you almost a year, Miranda. You couldn't have come to feel the way you do if it were always like this between the two of you. What changed?"

"And why should I confide in you? I barely know you," Miranda asked in her usual cool tones.

"Because you need to talk to someone. You've all but lost Andy by not opening up to her. What do you have to lose, Miranda? Even if I were to repeat what you tell me, who'd believe me anyway?" Janeway smirked at the truth of the statement. No one would ever believe Miranda Priestly was in love with her much younger female assistant, not the Ice Queen of Fashion.

Miranda sighed, walked over to the dais and sat down, unmindful of the potential damage to her clothes. "A chance set of circumstances caused Andréa to accompany me to Paris instead of Emily as was the original plan." Miranda stopped and looked down at her clasped hands. "No, that is not true. I insisted Andréa accompany me, even went so far as to threaten her job if she did not do so." She looked up at Kathryn, eyes pleading for understanding. "I simply could not face being without her for a week. I knew it was wrong. I was still married at that time, though I knew the marriage was ending, which is truly no excuse. I just couldn't seem to help myself."

Janeway sat beside her and smiled gently. "I understand that better than you might think," she admitted. How many times had she done similar things with Seven? She'd stomped right into the middle of the Borg Queen's lair to get her beloved Seven back, never once questioning the feelings that had caused such a rash action. So yes, she understood Miranda's actions completely. "From some things that have been said by Andy and others Paris seems to be where the changes started," she observed.

"Yes," Miranda agreed, nodding. "Andréa is the single kindest, gentlest human being I have ever met. She has the purest heart, or rather _had_ the purest. I changed that. It haunts me that even if I could have foreseen the far reaching consequences, I don't know that I would have changed my actions. Everything I had worked for my entire life was threatened. I was in danger of losing _Runway._ I took the necessary actions to eliminate that threat." Miranda looked away as if embarrassed to admit the next part. "There were several ways to go about it, but I chose the most expedient, the one I knew would put an end to that particular threat with the greatest finality and speed. It required I sacrifice a dear friend's dream on the altar of my own ambition."

"Nigel," Janeway guessed and wasn't surprised when Miranda nodded. "Andy seems very close to him."

"She is. Nigel was the first friend she made at _Runway._ I-I hurt him rather badly as he is also my oldest and dearest friend, but he forgave me. Andréa never has. She-she stopped smiling at me." Miranda sighed shakily. "I never realized how much I needed those smiles until they were gone. Now, I don't know how to get them back."

Janeway looked down at the floor, deep in thought. Seven never smiled, not with her lips, but her eyes were a different matter. She smiled with them all the time. Janeway knew what it was like when there was no smile in them as Seven looked at her. She shivered, her sympathy for Miranda deepening. "So Andy confronted you?"

Miranda shook her head. "No, she walked away. I thought she was gone, she wouldn't answer my calls. I had just decided to go after her, to explain. I never explain," she finished, muttering the last almost to herself. "Then Andréa suddenly answered and gave some excuse about needing a breath of air. She was back at my side in moments, but it was all different. She was no longer warm or friendly to me. There was a coldness I'd never seen in her before. She's more subdued with everyone now, but with me, she's almost icy. I-I don't like it, but I'm helpless to change it. She's young, vibrant and so very lovely. There's nothing I can offer her. If I were to confront her, she might actually leave this time, or worse, laugh at me." Miranda dropped her face into her hands and shuddered.

_Rejection._ Janeway knew that fear well. She'd had the same argument with herself many times. What did an old starship captain with a battered heart and far too much stress have to offer a beautiful young woman with her whole life ahead of her? _History repeating,_ she thought cynically. At least one of them deserved a happy ending, and Janeway was determined Miranda would have hers. There were too many lives at stake not to at least try. She slapped her hands on her thighs decisively. "You don't strike me as a woman who allows fear to rule her life. Talk to Andy, tell her how you feel. One of you has got to take the risk. You put your job first, and I can understand that since I do it myself often enough. This time put Andy first by taking the biggest risk of your life; show her your heart."

"Like you have done with Seven?" Miranda asked quietly with a satisfied smirk.

Janeway knew her mouth was hanging open and closed it with a snap of teeth. "How did you-what do you mean?" she finally managed.

"I am not as oblivious to my surroundings as I allow people to believe, Kathryn. When you look at Seven…well, I know that look well. I see it in my mirror when I allow myself to think of Andréa. You're in love with her, but you've not told her. I think possibly for the very same reasons that have made me hold my tongue with Andréa. Why should I take your advice and risk what you won't?" Miranda asked.

"Because Seven doesn't return my feelings the way Andy does yours," Janeway said, her voice hoarse with gathered emotions.

"Self-delusion is such an interesting exercise, don't you think?" Miranda scoffed. "It allows you to think the only life you affect is your own, the only heart you're breaking beats in your own chest. It's a trait we share. Look what I have done to my Andréa with mine and ask yourself what the effect of your denial has been on your Seven." Miranda reached out and laid a hand on Janeway's nearest her. "We are alike in many ways, Kathryn. Not the least of which is our ability to justify our own actions to ourselves. But what of the effect on the women we love? When we deny ourselves, we deny them too, and I realize now that the cost is greater to them. We're each strong, authoritative women who, for all we have accomplished, do not believe we're worthy of being loved by such pure hearts. It has changed my Andréa in ways I don't believe even she realizes. Do not do the same to Seven. You will regret it, Kathryn, and the rest of your life will not be long enough to make amends." Miranda patted the hand under hers. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to speak with Andréa. I promised my girls, though I think the topic will be different than what they requested of me."

Janeway watched as Miranda ran her hands over her iconic hairstyle and smoothed her clothing. Settling her shoulders, she marched confidently towards the back room and disappeared inside. Janeway smiled to herself. If that was how she appeared when she strode onto the bridge during a red alert, it was no wonder her staff snapped to attention when she stepped off the turbolift. It was quite an intimidating sight and evidently, a genetic trait.

She chuckled softly and shook her head as the backroom suddenly emptied save for Miranda and Andy, even B'Elanna rushed out of the room with that same look of confusion she'd had the first time Miranda had sent her packing with a well-timed glare and a quiet admonition. Shannon O'Donnell might not have been as inspiring an ancestor as Janeway had originally believed, but she felt a warm glow of pride at the knowledge she was related to Miranda Priestly. The woman was a force of nature, and God help anyone who stood in her way, even herself.

_Can I as her descendent do any less?_ Janeway asked herself, looking over to where Seven stood in conversation with B'Elanna near the door to the back room. _No, I don't think I can,_ she decided. Standing, she started to tug her tunic in to place, only to roll her eyes as she grabbed, not the expected uniform, but a soft knit shirt. _Leave it to me to end up having the most important conversation of my life in civvies._ But maybe it was better that way, no uniform to hide behind, nothing between herself and Seven except the love that burned in her heart every time she saw or thought of her Seven. Trying to project the same confidence she'd seen in Miranda, while knowing she was filled with the same fears, Janeway began to cross the room.


	23. Chapter 21

Andy watched Miranda from the corner of her eye as the door closed to the room, leaving them alone. She was very glad she had had the chance to change into her jeans and sweater before Miranda marched in and ordered everyone out with a look. As much as she might want to, she refused to meet the other woman's eyes. Knowing this might be the last chance she had to look at Miranda up close, her eyes darted to one of the large mirrors that had been set up. Miranda was so incredibly beautiful it almost hurt Andy to look at her, even at her reflected image. She watched in the mirror as Miranda's lips moved.

"We should talk, Andréa."

Andy stiffened. "I don't know what we could have to talk about, Miranda. I believe it's all been said already. You'll have my resignation in the morning. I'll gather my things and be out of the building before you even arrive."

Andy could see Miranda move closer to stand directly behind her. Before she could glance away, Miranda met her eyes in the mirror. There was such sorrow in their blue depths that Andy caught her breath.

"I don't wish for you to go, Andréa."

Her resolve to leave Miranda began to weaken, but Andy reminded herself of what Miranda had done to Nigel. _How long until it's my turn?_ _Nothing changes the fact that Miranda can't be trusted._ With her determination once more in place, Andy tore her gaze from Miranda's and looked away. "What you want no longer matters to me, Miranda. I've talked myself into and out of this too many times already. I want out."

"You want to write. You can do so at _Runway._ I'm sure there'll be an opening in Editorial very soon," Miranda tried again.

Andy rubbed her forehead. _Why was Miranda fighting this so hard?_ _Was Nigel right? No, he couldn't be…could he? _"You mean as soon as you fire someone to make one, don't you? I know how you operate, Miranda. People aren't pawns. You can't just move them around to please yourself."

"Then you haven't forgiven me for what I did in Paris," Miranda stated. "Nigel _has_. Why haven't you?"

Andy crossed her arms over her chest, trying both to lock in her emotions and lock out Miranda's beseeching tone. "You didn't do anything to me. What's to forgive?" she deflected, not wanting to explain and inflame the situation more.

"But I did do something to you, didn't I, Andréa?" Miranda guessed. "I put a very large crack in those rose-colored glasses you insisted on wearing. I shook your faith, didn't I?"

Andy shot her an angry glance and then found herself trapped by those deep blue eyes. "Cracked them, Miranda? You ground them under your Prada-clad heel. But you didn't shake my faith, you solidified it. I'm more convinced than ever that trusting you would be the biggest mistake of my life," Andy bit out with a bitter laugh.

"You think I would do the same to you," Miranda stated levelly.

"I _know_ you would, Miranda." Andy dropped her hands to her side, fists clenched. "The moment it was to your advantage you'd toss me aside like a K-mart reject."

Miranda arched an eyebrow and moved to lean back against one of the make-up tables. "Tell me, Andréa, do you believe I'd do the same to Caroline and Cassidy? Do you think I'm so evil I would eat my young?" she asked, her tone casual.

Andy flung an arm out, swinging herself around and staring at the wall previously behind her. "Don't be ridiculous. You adore the twins. Everyone knows that," she was forced to admit. _But that doesn't make any difference. I'm just an assistant._

"And do you believe that if I loved someone, truly loved them with all my heart, I would do the same to them?" Miranda continued with the same light tone.

"Didn't you?" Andy accused. "Didn't you sacrifice your marriages to your ambition? Isn't that what really happened there?" Andy knew she'd been digging her own grave with Miranda since the conversation began so she might as well go the requisite six feet.

"I said with _all_ my heart, Andréa," Miranda corrected. "I've always known I could never love a man in such a way."

"Then why marry one?" Andy had to ask. If what Miranda was saying were true, then why would she settle for less? It didn't sound like the Miranda that Andy knew.

"Generational differences," Miranda shrugged. "Being a lesbian wasn't as fashionable as it is today. It would have killed any chance I might have had for advancement were anyone to find out, and while I might dictate what hangs in closets today, I did not wish to be one of those items. When I was your age, _gay_ was _not_ the new black. History has proven that all things are cyclic. I knew the day would come when it would be more acceptable to be who I truly am openly, if I had sufficient power to deter open detractors. So I supported the appropriate causes anonymously and worked my way to where I am today. My children will not face the same choices I did, should the need arise."

Andy's lips curled in a cynical smile. It was just like Miranda. If she couldn't live as she chose, she simply rewrote the rules to her satisfaction. "So you played the good, little straight girl and had the best of it all," Andy sneered.

"_Do not_ presume to judge me for my choices, Andréa," Miranda cautioned in a cold voice. "Not until you're faced with similar ones. I knew I was a lesbian at a young age, and I've buried more friends than you have yet to make, both to disease and to violence. At your age I was attending a funeral a week. Forgive me for not making myself a statistic, for choosing instead to sacrifice love for money and power." Miranda waved a hand to stop Andy before she could speak. "Oh, I do not deny I did that. But there were reasons, reasons that went beyond just my own comforts. I have donated more money to hospices, research, and political organizations than you might possibly make in a lifetime."

Andy rounded on her, infuriated that with everything else Miranda would try to justify herself with lies. "Remember me, Miranda? I'm your assistant. I've seen the files of your charitable donations. Hell, I authorized the checks. They were nice, but nowhere near the kind of money you're talking about."

"You saw the_ public donations_, Andréa," Miranda informed her with an exasperated sigh. "The _private_ ones are handled by a charitable trust, the Joshua Princhek Trust to be exact. Joshua Princhek, my older brother, who was beaten almost to death for walking down a sidewalk holding his lover's hand. It was while he was in the hospital they found he had AIDS. He died a delusional bag of bones that would have made a _Runway_ model look fat. I was determined to help end that insanity in any way I could. So do not presume to think you know all there is to know about me, Andréa, nor to judge the way I chose to go about it. We are all driven by something."

The tension in the room had risen to the point where Andy had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. She stared wide-eyed at Miranda, who stood, chest heaving, as if challenging her. She walked on shaky legs to a chair and dropped into it. _Have I really been so wrong about Miranda? Are the small glimpses I've had the real woman, or is the fashion icon the truth?_ Andy dropped her head into her hands. She really didn't know anymore what to believe or who to believe. _Always trust your heart. It won't steer you wrong._ She could hear her father's voice as he stood beside her. _And my heart says what? _Andy asked herself, though she already knew the answer. _That I love this confusing, complex woman with everything that's in me. But how does she feel?_ She looked up at Miranda, who still stood poised to continue the battle. "Why are you telling me all this?" she asked, the answer seeming of paramount importance to her in that moment.

"Because I need for you to trust me again," Miranda whispered hoarsely.

"Why?" Andy stood and moved closer until they were almost nose to nose, searching Miranda's eyes for the truth. "Why do you need my trust so much? Why, Miranda, why?" she pleaded for the truth.

"Because I'm in love with you, and I _cannot_ lose you," Miranda answered, her eyes clear with honest intent. "If it means I must metaphorically bare myself, as you did out there," she swung a hand toward the door indicating the room beyond, "then I will do so…gladly, if it means keeping you at my side in _any_ capacity. Just do not ask me to be without you, Andréa. I could not survive doing so."

Andy staggered back and dropped back into the chair, the room spinning around her. She leaned forward pressing her face between her knees, knowing she was hyperventilating and would faint if she didn't do so. She heard the click of heels on the floor coming closer before a narrow black skirt and two slender knees came into view as Miranda knelt beside her. A warm hand began to make circles on Andy's back.

"Breathe deeply and slowly, Andréa," Miranda instructed, before adding with a huff, "I don't know what it is with women perfecting their swan dives around here tonight. It's becoming quite redundant."

Andy had to laugh. It was such a typically Miranda thing to say, and she loved the woman as much for that as for anything. She crossed her arms over her knees and buried her face in them, laughing until her sleeves were wet with the tears from her mirth.

"Really, I do not see what is so humorous, Andréa," Miranda objected, clearly offended that her declaration of love would be met with such hysterical laughter.

"Everything, Miranda," Andy gasped, her laughter slowing to the occasional chuckle. "I just knew you didn't care anything about me. I was convinced I had you all figured out, and I was wrong about it all." Tenderly, Andy brushed back the lock of hair that always fell over Miranda's eye. "You're right. There's a lot I don't know about you…outside of the fact that I love you, but I'm willing to learn." She was astonished to see Miranda's eyes flood with tears.

"You…love me?" Miranda asked.

"Yeah, I do. That's why it hurt so much to think you'd do the same thing to me that you did to Nigel," Andy admitted.

"Andréa, I had no other choice. I spent weeks looking for another way, but everything else I came up with would only delay Irv's takeover. I had to end it, quash it completely or face the challenge again with far less ammunition on my side," Miranda explained.

With that, Andy finally believed Miranda loved her. Miranda, who never explained herself to anyone, was doing just that to calm Andy's fears. The Queen of Fashion and Haughtier was on her knees on a cold, dirty floor explaining herself to Andy Sachs. So Andy did the only thing she could think of to let Miranda know she understood the effort-she kissed her. Softly and slowly Andy moved her lips against Miranda's, tasting the mouth she had fantasized about so many times. She pulled back, ending the kiss and smiled. "I love you, Miranda Priestly, and you couldn't lose me if you tried. My heart is yours for as long as you want it."

Andy suddenly found herself pulled from the chair and lying on top of the woman she loved. Arms wound around her tightly as Miranda claimed her mouth in a ravaging kiss, as if she needed to imprint herself on Andy. Miranda rolled until she was on top and Andy was looking up at her.

"I adore you, Andréa. You may consider your heart claimed for the rest of my lifetime," Miranda said between deep searching kisses.

"M-Miranda, we're on the floor," Andy gasped when Miranda at last let her breathe.

"I don't care," Miranda stated emphatically. "I have you now. I'm not letting you go."

Andy threw back her head and laughed, baring her neck which Miranda latched onto immediately, bathing the soft skin with her lips and tongue. "Wouldn't a n-nice, so-soft bed be b-better for this? Oh, damn," Andy moaned. "At least the first time."

Miranda drew back and looked down at her. "I have a bed," she admitted. "A very large one."

Andy raised her head and planted a small kiss on Miranda's chin. "You saw part of me out there," she nodded her head toward the door. "Wouldn't you rather see the rest spread out on your bed…entirely bare…naked?" she asked with a kiss to the side of Miranda's neck. She could feel the movement against her lips as Miranda swallowed at the thought.

"Really, Andréa, why are we on this floor when I have a perfectly good bed at home?" Miranda asked with a raised eyebrow.

Andy laughed and pulled her back into a thorough kiss. "You always have the best ideas, Miranda," she teased.

"Yes, well, of course I do," Miranda agreed. "Now do let me up so we can go home."

Andy chuckled as Miranda rolled to her feet with a litheness that belied her years. Loving Miranda Priestly wouldn't always be easy, but it would definitely be exciting, and that kind of excitement Andy could handle.


	24. Chapter 22

"What can you hear?" B'Elanna asked, glancing at the door and then back to Seven.

"Far less with you speaking at the same time," Seven responded as she tried to focus on the conversation happening behind the door. She listened for a moment and then said, "Miranda Priestly is attempting to ascertain why Six is angry with her. Six is not being cooperative."

"Well, Andy is pretty mad," B'Elanna defended.

"Indeed. I believe she is more hurt than angered," Seven qualified.

"Eavesdropping, Seven?" The captain's raspy voice interrupted them.

"I am merely trying to determine if there will be another temporal fluctuation in the immediate future, Captain," Seven explained her actions.

"Good one, Borg," B'Elanna murmured.

"Indeed," Seven agreed under her breath.

"Seven, could I speak with you a moment…in private?" Janeway gave B'Elanna a significant look.

"I'll just go start adjusting some lights or something," B'Elanna said and hurried away.

Seven watched her new-found friend and ally for a moment before turning back to the captain. "You wish to reprimand me for attempting to listen to Miranda Priestly and Six' conversation," she guessed.

"Normally, I don't approve of eavesdropping, but we need information. Since those two seem to be the cause of the fluctuations it wouldn't necessarily hurt to know what is happening with them. I have an idea I know, though, so I'd like to talk to you about something else," Janeway said.

Seven nodded and assumed her normal stance of parade rest. "Very well, Captain. What do you wish to discuss?"

Janeway smiled crookedly. "Miranda is in there hopefully telling Andy that she's in love with her."

Seven arched an eyebrow. "Indeed, Captain. It is certainly time that she did so."

Laughing, Janeway shook her head. "Do you know why she hasn't before now?" she asked.

"I can only assume that she held false beliefs as to her fitness to be loved by Six," Seven began. "She is in a position of authority over Six and is two times her age. I would imagine those would cause considerable consternation for someone of Miranda Priestly's personality."

"You said 'false beliefs.' You don't consider those to be valid reasons?" Janeway pushed.

"No, they are not," Seven stated emphatically. "I do not have a great deal of experience in the practical aspects of romantic love, but it would seem that one cannot determine who they love, only whether they choose to express that feeling. Am I incorrect, Captain?" Seven tilted her head and fixed Janeway with an inquisitive look. She was curious to know where the captain was going with this line of inquiry. Janeway seldom asked questions just to do so; she always had a point in mind, though she frequently led Seven to discover it on her own.

"No, Seven. You're not incorrect. There's an old saying, ,The heart will love who it wants.' We don't often get to choose. Sometimes a person finds themselves in love with someone…well, let's say that for many reasons that person might not be the best or most logical choice," Janeway finished with a shrug.

"But would a person's heart not know what is best for it…for them?" Seven asked, feeling her own heart begin to beat faster. _Was this the moment when they would finally speak of love in more than an esoteric manner?_

"Not always, Seven. Sometimes we find ourselves loving someone who isn't right for us, or who we're not right for. Sometimes it's someone who can't love us back," Janeway frowned and stared down at her boot tips. "Telling someone you love them for the first time can be a frightening proposition."

"Even for a starship captain?" Seven wondered, attempting to bring the conversation around to a more personal footing.

"Especially for a starship captain," Janeway chuckled ruefully. "We're rather used to getting our way. We tend to take rejection a bit harder, and it could be highly embarrassing as well as emotionally hurtful to be turned down by a crewmember of lower rank. Not to mention the legalities that would be involved."

"I would think," Seven began softly, "that anyone would be foolish to turn down certain starship captains."

Janeway's eyes darted up to look into deep blue depths. "Do you, Seven?" Janeway asked. "Would an ex-Borg drone, let's say, find such an offer…appealing?"

"Almost as appealing as the drone would find the starship captain," Seven admitted, feeling an unusual warmth in her cheeks.

Glancing over her shoulder at the others in the room, Janeway took a small step closer. "So, if the starship captain were to ask for a date at some point…when they were back onboard ship…?"

"The drone would wonder what had taken the captain so long," Seven answered decisively with her heart pounding in her throat, "and why the captain wished to delay the inevitable."

Janeway caught her breath. "Seven, I…" She glanced back over her shoulder again.

"You worry too much about what others will think, Captain," Seven said taking Janeway's hand and leading her back into the shadows. "I do not wish for you to wait longer."

Janeway reached up and cupped the back of Seven's neck. "Are you sure they can't see us?"

"Only my ocular implant can penetrate the darkness in this corner, and I will hear anyone who approaches before they are sufficiently close enough to disturb us," Seven assured her.

"Love that Borg efficiency," Janeway murmured before bringing her lips to Seven's.

Never having kissed anyone before, Seven wasn't sure what to expect, and with the first touch of lips, she thought for a moment her cortical node was malfunctioning. She felt tingles spread out through her body from the slide of soft lips against her own. Heat began to build in her core and she wanted to press her body tighter to the captain's. Unclear as to why, Seven instinctively felt that relief would come from being closer. "Captain," she whimpered when Janeway finally let her breathe again.

"Kathryn," Janeway corrected. "The captain is much too uptight and rigid to kiss you the way I want to, Seven."

"I-I do not understand," Seven gasped just before her mouth was claimed again, this time by a seeking tongue that delved deeply to stroke against her own. She moaned as she wrapped her arms tighter around Kathryn. Understanding was irrelevant, more and deeper kisses were all that concerned her now.

The sound of a throat clearing nearby forced them apart.

"I thought you said you'd hear anyone who came close," Janeway growled in a voice rough with wanting.

"I seem to have underestimated the power of your kisses, Kathryn," Seven explained her lapse, arching a brow as the captain laughed.

"And I yours, Darling," Janeway smiled up at her. "Back to work. We _will_ continue this later, however."

"Yes, Captain," Seven said demurely, knowing well how Kathryn would react to such a display coming from her. She was not disappointed as the captain laughed gustily.

Emily stalked from the back room to the front of the studio and stood with her arms folded over her chest, fuming. It was bad enough being verbally filleted by Miranda, but to have Nigel do it and in front of everyone was just too much. The fact that he'd tore Andrea a new one as well, didn't excuse him at all. So angry was she that she didn't realize Serena had followed her until the other woman spoke.

"You are angry with Nigel," Serena stated calmly.

"Bloody damn right I am," Emily snapped. "Bleeding wanker has no right to talk to me that way. Who does he ruddy well think he is?"

"Your friend."

Emily stared at Serena, knowing she was right and hating the fact. "Yes, well," she huffed, not sure what else to say.

"He is also right. What will it take, Emily? What must I do to make you see me?" Serena asked, her eyes glistening with tears. "Tell me you do not think of me this way, and I will leave you alone."

"No!" Emily gasped, reaching up to grab Serena's shoulders. "I don't want you to leave me alone." She blushed, realizing what she was admitting. "I mean…Oh, fuckitty fuck fuck!" she snarled throwing up her hands.

"Do you realize you use more profanity than all the others put together?" Serena gave her a teary smile.

"I'm sorry," Emily apologized sheepishly.

"I do not mind." Serena rubbed the backs of her fingers over Emily's cheek. "It tells me that you are very passionate, though you pretend not to be."

Emily could feel herself blushing and cursed her fair British coloring. She knew Nigel was right. Serena had as much as come out and said she wanted to be with her. Why she was still hesitating Emily didn't know. She supposed the most likely reason was that she just couldn't conceive of someone who looked like Serena being interested in her. Emily had never had that kind of luck. She captured Serena's hand in her own and brought it down from her face. She really couldn't think with Serena touching her.

"I don't know how to open up to you," she confessed. "I want to. I'm just not sure how to go about it."

"Perhaps we could start with a meal?" Serena suggested, her expression hopeful.

Emily started to nod and then stopped herself, if there was a prat in that building, it was her, not Nigel. This beautiful woman wanted her, was throwing herself at her, and all she could do was make excuses. She wanted Serena just as much as Serena seemed to want her. It was time to stop being a fool. "Oh, bloody hell," she snapped and launched herself at Serena, losing herself in the long arms that wrapped around her instantly and the soft lips that pressed to her own. It was all Emily could do not to devour Serena now that she had finally given herself permission to feel.

"This works, too," Serena mumbled against the lips that were ravishing her.

"I want you," Emily groaned wrapping her arms tighter around Serena and trying to lift her against her body.

Serena broke their kiss and rested her forehead against Emily's, chuckling lightly. "Emily, I am too tall and too heavy for you to lift."

"Don't care," Emily mumbled against her neck. She tried to avoid the hands that cupped her face and attempted to pull her away from the skin she was tasting.

"Emily, Emily, please," Serena gasped.

That finally got through to Emily, and she lifted her head, blinking in confusion. "Yes? What? Anything," she said in rapid succession.

Serena laughed and pulled Emily's head to her shoulder. "I knew you would be this way, but could we not wait until we are alone? I will be much more cooperative then, I promise you."

"Right. Cooperative is good. Yes, I can work with that," Emily agreed, feeling her face heat up again, this time at her total loss of control. "Right, so when do we get out of here?" She covered her mouth with her hand too late to stop herself from saying it and blushed all the harder.

"Soon," Serena assured her with a sexy chuckle. "You will not regret the wait."

Emily felt heat suffuse her body at the look she was getting from Serena. She jumped when the sound of a throat clearing broke their connection.

They turned and looked toward the back of the room where Miranda and Andy stood hand in hand.

"This seems to be an eventful night for many of us," Miranda said with a tiny smirk curling her lips. "Would anyone happen to know where Kathryn is…and Seven?"

Janeway stepped from the shadows, attempting to tug her blouse into place, forgetting yet again she wasn't wearing her tunic.

"Right here, Miranda," Janeway responded, her voice lower than normal.

"I see you took my advice," Miranda murmured.

"We both seem to have recognized good advice when we heard it," Janeway said with a glance at Andy.

Miranda nodded in agreement before fixing Janeway with her penetrating glare. "Perhaps now you'd like to explain why you and Seven appeared to faint in concert while your assistant did a rather striking imitation of a Neanderthal?" Miranda asked in a tone that brooked no refusal.

Dead quiet met her question.


	25. Chapter 23

Janeway coughed and glanced toward Seven. She really hadn't expected Miranda to ask that particular question. She'd been sure she'd deflected the issue earlier, but evidently, Miranda was not that easily put off.

"I'm sure the answer does not require that much thought, Kathryn," Miranda nudged her.

"No, it doesn't," Kathryn admitted. "But a polite way to say I can't discuss it does. The answer is somewhat on a need to know basis," Janeway attempted to deflect once again.

"_Need to know_. An interesting choice of phrasing," Miranda mused, tapping a finger against her lips. "Perhaps you would be more willing to discuss the matter with more…shall we say, official inquisitors? Let's drop the pretense, shall we? You have involved me and my staff. I would say that gives me a definite 'need to know.'"

Janeway sighed and rubbed her eyes against a lingering feeling of fatigue. It was clear Miranda wasn't about to let this go. From the corner of her eye she noticed Seven flex her fully human hand and look at it with the tiniest of frowns. Janeway supposed she could activate an emergency beam out and leave Miranda with her questions unanswered, but somehow she didn't think the situation was entirely resolved. She felt more like herself since encouraging Miranda to talk with Andy, and the woman having done so successfully, if one could judge by the fact that she had yet to release Andy's hand, had alleviated all symptoms save the lingering feeling of fatigue that had been ever present since the first episode.

"Mommy!" A child's voice split the silence that had descended following Miranda's last comment, followed by a small, fiery haired girl running up to the editor. "You were taking a long time," she chided her mother.

Janeway stared at the little girl, struck by her startling similarity to Janeway's sister Phoebe at that same age. An overpowering wave of nostalgia and homesickness swept over her. Her mother had always said Phoebes had their great-grandmother Cooper's coloring, the flaming red hair and translucent porcelain skin. Janeway suspected she now knew where Meredith Cooper had come by those traits in order to pass them on. Was this little girl her ancestor? And, if so, was she somehow the source of the fluctuations? Janeway tapped Seven on the hand to get her attention and gestured for her to follow. A nod toward B'Elanna had her following them, and the three moved away to give Miranda and Andy some privacy to speak to the child, and afford Janeway a few moments to consult with her crewmembers.

"I'm sorry, Bobbsey. I took a bit longer than I expected. There was a great deal to address," Miranda explained.

"Did you at least talk to Andy?" Cassidy persisted with a frown.

Miranda smiled and traced her fingertips over her daughter's cheek. "Yes, I spoke with Andréa."

Cassidy looked at their clasped hands, and a wide grin spread across her face as she raised her eyes to her mother, amazement apparent in her sparkling eyes. "You're holding hands," she gasped. "Does this mean Andy wants to be our friend again?"

Andy dropped to her knees in front of Cassidy and grasped her by the shoulders gently. "I never stopped being your friend, Cass. Things just got mixed up for a while," she sighed and glanced up at Miranda who laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Andy looked back at Cassidy again."I misunderstood some things about your mom."

Cassidy nodded knowingly. "Yeah, lots of people do that. Cause they think she's Miranda Priestly, but she's just Mom."

Andy's lips twisted in a rueful smile. "I'm not sure she's 'just' anything, Cass. Except amazing. She explained a lot of things to me that I didn't know before."

"Mom explained?" Cassidy's eyes widened. "She never explains anything. Well, except to me and Caro."

A gentle laugh from Miranda met her daughter's incredulity. "And now Andréa," Miranda added. "Just to the people I care about most."

Cassidy paused as if considering her mother's words before nodding. "But if you were upset with Mom, why couldn't you be our friend anymore?" she asked, tears forming in her eyes.

"You remind me so much of your mother, Cassidy," Andy began by way of explanation. "You have the same beautiful blue eyes, the same quick mind, all her good, wonderful qualities you have, too. She doesn't show those things at work very often."

"Because she's the boss," Cassidy said seriously. "And the boss has to keep her distance so people will listen and do what she wants. That's why I don't ever want to be the boss. It's too lonely."

"Yes, it can be," Andy agreed. "But only if you let it be that way. There are always people around who want to be your friend. It's just sometimes hard to tell who likes you for you and who just likes what you can do for them. You have to learn to tell the difference. Otherwise, you could end up missing some really good friends and hurting people who just want you to give them a chance."

"So Mom hurt you," Cassidy guessed, shooting a stern look at her mother.

Feeling the hand on her shoulder tighten, Andy turned the small face back to her own with a finger under Cassidy's chin. "I hurt her, too, Cass, by not talking to her and telling her what I was thinking and feeling. You and Caroline remind me so much of her that it hurt to talk to you guys when I thought I couldn't talk to your mom. I know that probably doesn't make much sense to you, and I'm really sorry if I hurt you."

"It's like when Caroline stopped being best friends with Susan Clark, and then Susan didn't want to be my friend anymore, either. She said it just made her miss Caro more," Cassidy said sagely. "So you're going to be Mom's best friend now?"

Andy looked up at Miranda helplessly, unsure how to explain the changes in their relationship. Were they going to be friends…with benefits, or was there more to it? She really didn't know what Miranda envisioned for them. There hadn't been time to discuss the intricacies beyond their love for each other, and how did you explain that to an eleven-year-old?

With one hand automatically smoothing the back of her skirt to her thighs, Miranda squatted to look her daughter in the eye. "Darling, I very much hope that Andréa will be my best friend and much more than that. I love her very much, Cassidy."

"More than a best friend," Cassidy said frowning as if she wasn't clear what that meant and was trying to reason it out. Suddenly, her expression cleared, and she looked at her mother in wonder. "You want to date Andy!" She looked from one to the other, seeking confirmation.

"Yes, I do, and I hope one day she'll choose to make her home with us," Miranda admitted with a gentle smile.

"Miranda!" Andy gasped. She didn't know why she was shocked exactly. Miranda was never one to do things by halves. It only made sense that if Miranda was in love with her, she'd want them to live together. Andy just hadn't expected her to admit as much to her children and so quickly.

"You don't want to live with us?" Cassidy asked, her expression revealing her hurt at the perceived rejection. "We'd be nicer to you than we were to Stephen and wouldn't play any more tricks on you. And I bet Mom would even come home for dinner more so we could be like a real family."

Andy laid a gentle finger on Cassidy's lips to stop her. "Your mom just surprised me, Cass, that's all. She only just told me she loved me. We haven't had a chance to talk about dating, or what we were going to do about it."

"So do you love her?" Cassidy asked as if that were the only thing that mattered, and Andy supposed she was right.

"Very much," Andy said with a glowing smile at Miranda.

Cassidy gave a single nod, looking so much like her mother with the gesture that Andy had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "Then you'll come home with us tonight, and after dinner, you and Mom can talk and decide when you're moving in," Cassidy said as if everything were settled.

Andy felt her face heating up as Miranda smirked at her. "Moving in," as Cassidy put it, was a breathtaking proposition when Miranda was involved.

"By all means, Andréa, come to dinner. It will be my_ pleasure_ to show you where you'll be _sleeping_ once you've moved in," Miranda said in an even tone but with a glowing fire in her eyes as they rested on Andy's face.

Andy swallowed to suppress the moan she could feel rising in response to the look Miranda was giving her. It was all she could do not to lean over and taste those soft lips again, but she knew doing so wouldn't be appropriate in front of Cassidy. Besides, she felt that once she started kissing Miranda again, she wasn't going to be inclined to stop until she'd tasted every inch of her body. When Miranda raised an eyebrow in inquiry, Andy realized she was expected to answer.

"Oh, ummm, yeah, okay, I'd love to." She gave Cassidy a warm smile and then turned the temperature up on it when she turned to Miranda.

"Very well," Miranda said rising to her feet and holding out a hand to assist Andy. "I believe Kathryn and Seven will be joining us for dinner as well. There is still the issue of a few answers I'd like to have."

Janeway led her crewmembers toward the dais. "It's not over, is it?" she asked by way of beginning the conversation.

"No, I do not believe so. I am still experiencing a marginal feeling of numbness in my extremities," Seven said while flexing her hand.

"B'Elanna?" Kathryn asked.

"The anger's still there, Captain. Just not as prevalent at the moment," B'Elanna admitted, crossing her arms over her chest as if to hold the feeling in.

"Any ideas as to why you suddenly go full scale Klingon when this happens?" Janeway asked.

B'Elanna looked away, blushing faintly. "You've been something of a role model for me since we've been in the Delta Quadrant, helping me to diffuse a lot of the anger I've held for years. I think that when my personality was split by the Vidiians and later re-integrated without me having that influence the Klingon half of my personality became dominant. At least that's the doctor's theory, and it makes pretty good sense to me as well."

Janeway nodded. It did make sense and was just another example of the impact she had on various lives that she wasn't even aware of. Who would her newfound relationship with Seven impact and how? Was she doing the right thing?

"Kathryn, withdrawal is unacceptable. I will not allow you to end what has only just begun," Seven stated sternly.

"You know me too well, Seven," Janeway said with a lopsided grin.

"Permission to speak freely, Captain?" B'Elanna requested.

"Go ahead, B'Elanna." Janeway nodded.

"You have an effect on every person on Voyager. Up to now, it's been one of self-denial in many ways, but who knows how long we're gonna be out there. Wouldn't a better example be to continue to live life in the best way possible while still trying to get home? I know of at least four potential couples onboard who are denying their feelings for each other because they don't think you'd accept it. They're giving up a chance at happiness because of your example. Is that really the message you want to send?"

Was that the message she wanted to send? No, it wasn't. Janeway didn't need to think about it. She wanted her crew happy, or as happy as they could be given their situation. Telling them so wouldn't work if she showed them something entirely different. "Thank you, B'Elanna," she murmured, twining her fingers with Seven's. She turned her mind back to the problem at hand. "Evidently getting Miranda and Andy together wasn't enough as we're all still having some symptoms. So either the issue goes deeper or there's an outside influence we're not aware of, yet. Seven, are you eavesdropping again?"

"That is correct, Captain," Seven admitted with a tiny smile. "Miranda Priestly has more than one child, though I was already aware of this, and it appears Six will be 'moving in.'"

Janeway couldn't hide her astonishment. "Already? Miranda isn't wasting any time."

"Miranda Priestly is known to be decisive," Seven affirmed. "She is also extremely protective of her children."

"Then you're thinking what I am? That one of her children is the problem?" Janeway asked.

"Yes, Captain. I also believe that she will not take well to any attempt to question them without knowing the details of our mission," said Seven. "There is still the possibility of the alteration coming from a different source entirely."

"None of which explains how this got so far off track in the first place," Janeway said, rubbing the back of her neck. "Someone had to have taken an action that caused the deviation. The question remains, who?"

"There is a possibility, Captain. One we have not yet explored. This is not the first time an attempt was made to erase your existence," Seven reminded her.

"It isn't?" B'Elanna spoke up.

"Temporal Prime Directive," Janeway said by way of explanation.

"Then I'll leave you two alone. Let me know if you need me for anything else," B'Elanna said before walking over to fiddle with some of the camera equipment.

"Braxton is supposed to have been re-integrated and confined for treatment, Seven. Surely, Ducane would have let us know if he'd gotten lose again," Janeway said.

"It is possible they are not aware of his activities. They did not realize it was Braxton who attempted to destroy Voyager the first time. It was even Braxton who sent me to apprehend the perpetrator."

Janeway rubbed both hands over her face in frustration. "I _hate_ time travel," she snarled.

"I am aware, Kathryn," Seven said with the infinitesimal smirk she often assumed when Janeway had done something that she considered typical behavior.

Shaking her head at her love's expression, Janeway chuckled. "I'm sure you are, Seven. I guess we need to talk to Miranda. It seems the best way to get this settled. And it looks like this is the time," Janeway said nodding subtly to let Seven know Miranda was approaching.

"Kathryn, you and Seven will be accompanying us to my home for dinner this evening," Miranda said as she walked up.

"What a lovely idea, Miranda. We'd be glad to," Janeway smiled. This might turn out to be easier than she'd first thought.


	26. Chapter 24

"So, you're a doctor?" Nigel asked giving the tall balding man a subtle once over. Nice Armani suit, but that tie was just… Nigel shuddered. Well, they could do something about that later.

"Yes, I am," the doctor said pleasantly as he examined the collection of cameras spread out on a table in the studio.

"Not many doctors make house calls these days. You must be very dedicated," Nigel observed.

"Nice of you to notice," the doctor preened. "I wish my patients were as observant. It would make my job a great deal easier."

"I've always been impressed with doctors, the long years of study, the level of commitment. It takes a very special person," Nigel said moving closer. "Your wife must be very proud of you."

"Oh, I don't have a wife," the doctor denied. "I have my music and my studies. They're…sufficient."

"Really?" Nigel purred. "You're a musician?"

"A singer, actually. An operatic tenor," the doctor bragged.

"I love opera. There's a wonderful café I know that features a series of singers. Most are young hopefuls, but they often have lovely voices. Perhaps you'd be interested in hearing them," Nigel said smiling.

The doctor's eyes widened. "Oh, well, I don't know. I might be needed here," the doctor hedged.

"Nonsense, Doctor," Kathryn said as she walked up, followed by Seven, Andy, Cassidy, and Miranda. "Seven and I are having dinner with Miranda tonight. We can call you if we need you. B'Elanna's going to finish up here, and I believe we'll probably be late getting back. I know how much you love the opera. Go and have a good time."

"No, really, I…" the doctor started.

"Wonderful! It's settled then," Nigel cut in and, grabbing the doctor by the arm, began to drag him toward the door. "See you all tomorrow." He pulled the doctor through the door and was gone.

"You do realize that Nigel is gay," Miranda commented.

"Yes, I do," Janeway said with an evil smirk.

"Kathryn, why did you insist the doctor spend the evening with Nigel Kipling when he clearly did not wish to?" Seven questioned.

"Darling, the doctor has shown entirely too much interest in you over the years. I thought it was time he broadened his outlook. I'm sure Nigel will prove quite creative in assisting him to do so," Janeway chuckled.

"Indeed," Seven commented with a concerned look. "And if the doctor does not choose to be…broadened?"

"Nigel can be quite persuasive, I assure you," Miranda informed her. "Emily, call my home and inform the cook there will be three more for dinner. Then you and Serena may go. We will see you both here tomorrow. That's all." Miranda waved them away.

Janeway stifled a laugh as Emily dragged Serena through the door much as Nigel had the doctor, though Serena was being much more cooperative. Andy wasn't as successful, giggling softly at the display.

"My car and driver are waiting outside. It will be a bit of a tight fit, but I believe we can manage it." Miranda said, taking Cassidy's hand in one of hers and Andy's in the other, and heading for the doorway. "Kathryn, Seven, come along."

Dinner was a pleasant affair. After Janeway got over her surprise at exactly how identical the twins actually were, she began to perceive slight differences in their appearance, but more importantly, she realized that they were two entirely separate people with their own views and opinions. Cassidy was the more outspoken of the two, reminding Janeway even more of her sister, while Caroline seemed to be the more reserved, not unlike Janeway herself. The more time she spent with them the less sure she was which one was her direct ancestor, and without knowing that she was going to have a hard time figuring out how to correct the deviation in the timeline.

After they finished eating, the twins excused themselves upstairs to play something called a _Wii _and Miranda invited Janeway and Seven into the den for an after dinner aperitif and coffee. As Miranda was pouring out measures of brandy for all but Seven, who had declined the offer and requested tea instead, Janeway continued to muse on their predicament. The Temporal Prime Directive did not allow for her to tell Miranda the truth about who she was or why she was there. Yet, it was becoming apparent that she really didn't have a great deal of choice other than to do just that.

"The Temporal Prime Directive prohibits doing what you are thinking, Kathryn," Seven spoke in her ear.

Janeway sighed. As if she had to be reminded of that. _I hate time travel._ "I'm aware of that, Seven, but I see little other recourse. Miranda would know better than anyone if one of her girls is acting differently, and there's no way she's going to let either of us interrogate one of them without knowing exactly what is going on."

"You must decide quickly," Seven advised nodding toward Miranda, who was advancing on them with two goblets of dark liquid in her hands.

"Kathryn, I believe it's now time for you to explain what exactly is going on with your group," Miranda stated, handing over one of the goblets to Janeway and offering the other to Andy. She returned to the bar and retrieved her own glass, taking a small sip before fixing Janeway with a steely glare.

"Would it be possible for us to speak in private?" Janeway asked. She needed to explain things to Miranda, but Andy was another matter.

Miranda took another small drink of her brandy, appearing to weigh the idea, but giving a decisive nod. "Very well. We can adjourn to my study. Andréa, you are aware of my girls' bedtime. Please see to it that they do not miss it. I will look in on them when we are finished if they're already in bed," Miranda said, giving Andy a gentle smile. She squeezed Andy's hand in passing and led Janeway upstairs.

Andy wasn't thrilled with Miranda being alone with Kathryn without knowing what was going on. She had instinctively trusted the woman from the moment they met, but in truth, none of them knew very much about the photographer. She also wasn't all that happy about being left to entertain Seven. She still held a small resentment for the tall blonde who had usurped her place as Miranda's assistant. Were it not for Seven, Andy might not have been sent away in the first place, though Andy couldn't help thinking that she and Miranda might never have spoken of their feelings if they were still in daily contact. _Would Miranda have said something that much sooner if I had walked away in Paris?_ Knowing there was no point in second guessing the past, Andy rose to accept the tray from the cook that held Seven's tea. She rested the tray on the coffee table and, once seated, poured out a cup for Seven. "Milk, sugar, lemon?" she asked, playing the proper hostess.

"Sugar, one lump," Seven replied and accepted the cup once it was prepared. After a tentative sip, she nodded. "Perfectly prepared."

Andy couldn't help smiling. "Miranda wouldn't have it any other way."

"Miranda Priestly is extremely efficient," Seven agreed. "As is Kathryn, though perhaps more emotionally overt in her methods."

"Miranda can be very emotional with those she trusts. There just aren't a lot of people that she allows that close," Andy said, feeling she had to defend the woman she loved.

Seven sat neatly on the couch near Andy, knees together and back straight. The contrast between the two was startling as Andy turned to the side, resting one knee up on the cushion and leaning against the back of the couch.

"Kathryn can be very similar. I believe she thinks that allowing her emotions to show would inhibit her ability to lead. Her logic is faulty, though understandable," Seven observed.

"Oh, that definitely sounds like Miranda. No one at _Runway_ can see her as human. She takes great pains to reinforce her Dragon Lady image whenever possible," Andy laughed and gave an affectionate shake of her head at some of the things Miranda had done to instill fear in her employees.

"I assume she has proven quite difficult to work with," Seven mused.

"You have no idea," Andy said chuckling. "She regularly demands I do the impossible. Somehow I always manage to pull it off, though I'm never really sure how." She looked down into her goblet for a moment before taking a drink. "I just don't want to disappoint her, I guess. She gets enough of that from other people."

"The fact that you are able to perform these duties prohibits their being thought of as_ impossible_," Seven stated logically. "Perhaps she seeks to challenge you. Kathryn is quite fond of challenging me. I believe it amuses her to observe me while I attempt to assimilate the knowledge she takes for granted." Seven frowned for a moment. "Though she is always available to assist me when I have questions of a philosophical nature."

Remembering the "Cerulean Lecture" as it had become known at _Runway_, Andy grinned. "Yeah, Miranda explains things to me a lot."

"Cassidy Priestly expressed surprise that her mother does so. This is unusual behavior for her?"Seven asked.

"How did you-," Andy started and then waved the question away. This_ was _Seven she was talking to, and anyone who could impress Miranda that much with her constant efficiency must have a healthy dose of mind-reader in her genetic makeup. "Miranda never explains anything, and no one _dares_ ask. Well, except the twins, of course. They're the exception to all the rules the rest of us live by."

"And now, it would seem, so are you," Seven observed.

"Yeah, I guess I am," Andy agreed with a dreamy smile. _Miranda loves me. How cool is that?_

"I have observed you with Miranda Priestly since I came to _Runway_. I did not believe at first that you liked her. Your new relationship status will come as a surprise to the rest of your collective as well."

Andy laughed. "Seven, you have a unique way of putting things. If you weren't so efficien,t you'd drive Miranda crazy."

"She has expressed as much to me," Seven stated by way of agreement.

"You're right though," Andy continued. "Things haven't been good between me and Miranda for a while, though it was mostly me with the problem. I thought of leaving so many times but then kept changing my mind. Getting my full year in seemed to become more and more important, and I just kept getting angrier at Miranda the longer I stayed." Combing her fingers through the hair on the side of her head, Andy then rested her head on her knuckles, elbow propped on the back of the couch and pulled her other knee up to rest on the leg already curled before her. "I cared about her, and it was so hard to be around her feeling the way I did and thinking she'd never feel the same, wasn't capable of it. It was easier to build walls between us and use anger to keep them there."

"When Kathryn and I became angry with each other, the effect was directly the opposite. We seemed to draw closer during those discussions. Her body is often centimeters from my own when we have a strong disagreement."

"Strong emotions reflecting other strong emotions," Andy mused with a grin. "You should have just kissed her, would have saved a lot of time."

"As you kissed Miranda Priestly?" Seven asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Umm…yeah, point taken," Andy said blushing. "I guess the first move did have to come from them."

"You said that you often wished to leave _Runway_. Why did you not do so?"

"Every time I decided to walk away, something stopped me," Andy began and then stopped. She ran her fingers through her hair again, curling a lock around and around as she thought. "You know, that's not exactly right. Every time I made up my mind to leave, I'd run into this guy, and he'd say something that got me thinking. Anyway, I'd change my mind and be more determined than ever to stay for the full year. They say a year with Miranda and you can work anywhere. I wanted that." She smiled ruefully. "Or maybe I just wanted any excuse I could find to stay near her. I don't know. Being close to her, even as angry as I was, was better than not seeing her at all."

Seven straightened even more if that was possible an expression of intense concentration on her face. "Someone interfered with your leaving _Runway?_" she asked.

"Well, not interfered really. He'd just make a comment that would get me to thinking that I should stick it out." Andy shrugged.

"What did this man look like?" Seven asked.

"Average, I guess. Middle-aged, about fifty, I'd say," Andy blushed as she realized what she'd said. Miranda was also fifty. _If I can look like that at her age, bring it on!_

"Six, you must concentrate," Seven directed with a note of exasperation in her tone.

"What's so important about him?" Andy asked, leaning her head to the side.

"I do not know that anything is important about this individual. However, it would appear from your statements that you did not know him prior to your interactions with him recently. I find it interesting that a stranger could have such a strong impact on your actions."

Andy frowned, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers rapidly. "It was just that the stuff he said got me to thinking, stuff about giving up and being beaten by Miranda. It just fed into what I was already feeling."

"When did you first meet this individual?"

"In Paris, after…well, something happened at one of the luncheons, and I was going to walk away from Miranda and _Runway._ I'd gotten as far as a fountain in the square nearby. Miranda was calling me, and I was about to throw the phone in the fountain when he said something about not letting it fall in. I just instinctively held on to it. We talked for a minute, and then Miranda called again. That time I answered and made some excuse about needing a breath of fresh air. She just told me to get back there and do my job, which kinda surprised me, but that's what I did, though I made up my mind that's all I'd do. I wouldn't care about her anymore. Easier said than done," Andy finished ruefully.

"This man, what did he say that made you change your mind?" Seven pushed.

"Something about being forewarned is forearmed. I—what happened that day, it made me think Miranda couldn't be trusted. That eventually she'd do the same thing to me. I thought I needed to get out before she could, or worse, I became so much like her that I'd do the same to someone," Andy finished. Dropping her head back, she closed her eyes and remembered the feelings she'd had that day. "It would have killed me if she'd done what she did to N – the same thing to me."

"And it would have been equally as devastating for me, had I been forced to do so, Andréa," Miranda said, clearly having caught Andy's last comment as she came back into the room followed by Janeway. "Were I now faced with a choice of losing _Runway _or you…I would miss the magazine, but I'm sure I could find another use for my talents that is just as satisfactory."

Andy stared at her. _Miranda would give up _Runway_ for her?_

"Breathe, Andréa," Miranda advised with a smirk. "You cannot think I would allow anything to take you from me, now that I finally have you."

"Oh, wow, Miranda. I don't even know what to say," Andy gasped.

"Then say nothing, Darling. I spoke with the girls before we came down, and they're getting ready for bed now. Kathryn and Seven will be remaining with us tonight. Could you please show them to the guest room on the third floor, last room on the right? I'll tuck the girls in and join you afterward," Miranda directed.

"Join me?" Andy asked, frowning. "Where?"

"In our room, Andréa. Where else would you sleep tonight?"

"_Our_ room," Andy parroted, surprised both that Miranda would speak of a room as theirs and that Miranda seemed to think she knew which one it was.

"Yes, Darling. Our bedroom. First door on the left on that same floor," Miranda explained as if Andy should be aware. "I'll join you momentarily." She turned and left the room without glancing back.

"_We" have a bedroom._ Andy felt her heart race at the thought, though she realized she should have expected it. Miranda always moved quickly once she'd made up her mind about something. The woman was nothing if not decisive. Andy's eyes widened as she realized that their having a _bedroom_ also meant they had a _bed_. One in which Andy was evidently expected to sleep with Miranda. _Breathe, Andy, breathe!_ She sucked a loud breath into her lungs and blushed as Janeway chuckled. _Two could so play at that game, _Andy thought before putting on her most innocent smile. "Just follow me, Kathryn. I'll show you and Seven to _your_ bedroom for the night." Andy bit her lip to keep from laughing as Janeway's eyes grew enormous and she sucked in her own loud breath. _Payback is a glorious thing, _ Andy chuckled to herself.


	27. Chapter 25

B'Elanna once again sat in her chair on the roof, feet propped on the low stone wall that encircled it. She watched the blinking lights of the city. Heaving a sigh, she rubbed her eyes. They burned both from the long day, and the tears she had fought not to shed for the last hour. Upon returning to the shuttle, she'd checked on the captain's journals and was surprised that one was still missing, which supported the captain's theory that the situation wasn't resolved yet. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that things hadn't proven to be as easy as they'd hoped. _When was it ever?_ she thought with a wry grimace.

Nothing had ever been simple in B'Elanna's life. There was no reason for it to suddenly change now. She had broken things off with Tom because she'd realized she was taking the easy way out, settling for something that was less than what she really wanted. It wasn't that he was a bad person, because he wasn't. Just a little too immature and childishly impulsive to make B'Elanna really comfortable in a long term relationship with him. She supposed she had just reacted to the loneliness of being stranded so far from home, with few options for romantic companionship and instead had settled for the first person who dared to approach her. When she'd caught herself more and more frequently thinking that she'd be better off alone than dealing with Tom's issues, she'd realized it was time to get out. _So here I sit on this stupid roof while even the doctor has a date tonight! Kahless, how pathetic can a person get?_

Not that she resented any of her friends for what they'd found together. It was about time the captain and Seven admitted their feelings for each other. The rank and file onboard Voyager had been taking bets for years on how long it would take them. She wondered who would win or if anyone would since she doubted anyone had bet on a date three thousand years in the past. B'Elanna snorted at the thought. Only Janeway would finally admit her love for the Borg in the middle of an away mission that held all their lives in the balance, but then, would there ever have been a better time? If they failed, then Janeway would lose any chance of telling Seven.

B'Elanna had thought they'd succeeded when Miranda had kept Andy in the backroom to talk to her. Getting those two to admit their feelings was a major coup and she'd been sure it was what was causing the variance in the timeline. Evidently, there was something far more insidious going on. She only hoped the captain could figure it out in time. In a little over an hour, three couples had been able to work out their issues and come together. B'Elanna grunted at the irony. They were all out there right now spending their first night together as couples, and here she sat alone. Two weeks ago, before this all began, she'd been the only one in a relationship, and now she was the only one who wasn't, which is what had brought her to be sitting here fighting tears.

Disgusted with her own sentimentality, B'Elanna pushed up from her seat and strode toward the shuttle. It was time to take another look at the clues they'd gathered so far. They still had a mission and a mystery to solve.

Andy opened the door Miranda had indicated and gestured for Janeway and Seven to precede her into the room. "If I know Miranda, you'll find everything you need. I'll see you in the morning," she said before closing the door and leaving them alone.

Janeway walked further into the room, avoiding looking toward the bed at all costs. The door nearest the bed led to the en suite. That much she could tell through the open door, which meant that the other door must be a closet. She drifted towards the dresser and idly opened a drawer finding several pairs of silk pajamas in assorted sizes folded neatly. She drew out two pair, one for herself and one she estimated would fit Seven.

"Kathryn, there is no sonic shower," Seven observed standing in the doorway of the en suite and observing the interior of the smaller room.

"They didn't have sonic showers in this century, Seven. Those are pretty much relegated to space ships of various types to preserve their water supplies," Janeway informed her while suppressing a grin. Seven really was a child of the stars. _Though child was a very loose term when applied to Seven_, Janeway thought, letting her eyes slide down the long, curvaceous body standing before her. It would be foolish to try to deny to herself that she wanted Seven as she'd never remembered wanting anyone before, but it all seemed to be happening too fast. She'd barely allowed herself to acknowledge her own feelings, much less considered what all this would mean with Seven returning them. She crossed to stand beside Seven and held out a pair of royal blue pajamas. "How about you change into these, and we can work out the shower situation in the morning?"

"I am to wear these?" Seven asked, holding the clothing in her fingertips and allowing both pieces to unfold and dangle before her. She eyed them with a look of disdain. "Will they not interfere with copulation, Kathryn?"

Janeway choked on a laugh. "Seven, we will not be _making love_ tonight." She could almost see Seven evaluating the phrase and filing it away for later usage.

"We will not?" Seven questioned with a frown. "You have changed your mind. You no longer wish to be in a relationship with me." Her face settled into the expressionless planes that Janeway knew meant Seven was hiding her emotions. "It is understandable. This drone has little to offer. I will request that Miranda Priestly assign me different quarters for the night." She turned for the door to the hallway, but Janeway caught her elbow.

"Seven, I haven't changed my mind about anything and believe me, you have a great deal to offer. I would just prefer to take things a bit slowly at first, if that's all right."

"It is not my preference, Kathryn, but I will comply," Seven stated. "I do not require the usage of the en suite at this time. You can change there, and I will do so here. I am assuming you do not wish to watch me disrobe."

Janeway cupped a porcelain cheek gently. "Darling, I would very much love to watch you, but I'm afraid it would severely shake my resolve to take things slowly. Please stay with me tonight. I want to hold you, Seven. I want to sleep in your arms. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, Kathryn," Seven gave her tiny smile. "I do not…sleep, but I would very much like to hold you while you do so."

"All right, Darling. Just give me a moment," Janeway said. She closed the door between them and quickly changed, finding a toothbrush and paste in a drawer of the vanity. She only took a few minutes to clean up enough to feel comfortable while sleeping. Walking back into the bedroom, she stopped and smiled at the woman lying stiffly in the bed.

Seven was on her back under the covers and was clearly uncomfortable in that position. "What do you find so amusing, Kathryn? Am I doing this incorrectly?"

"No, Seven, you're doing fine," Janeway said, lifting the covers and sliding under them. She curled up against Seven's side and rested her head on a slim shoulder. "Is this all right?"

Seven's arm moved around Janeway's waist and pulled her closer. "This is acceptable," Seven replied.

Janeway smiled as she felt Seven slowly relaxing into the fit of their bodies. Soon a second arm encircled her, and she was pulled closer to her love's long body. She draped her knee over Seven's thighs and snuggled close. Lifting her head, she shifted enough to bring their lips together giving Seven a gentle kiss. "Good night, Darling," she murmured against the full lips under her own.

"This is a good night kiss?" Seven asked.

"Yes, it is," Janeway agreed. "Though good night kisses don't necessarily require you to be in bed to give or receive one."

"I like good night kisses," Seven stated emphatically and reclaimed Janeway's lips in a deep, thorough kiss.

Janeway found herself lost in the warmth and subtle passion that flared between them. She enjoyed it for a moment or two, but then forced herself to break the kiss. "It's time to sleep, Darling."

"Yes, Kathryn," Seven acquiesced. "Though I believe kissing to be more beneficial, you are tired and should rest."

Resting her head back on the soft shoulder, Janeway's chuckle was interrupted by a yawn. In moments she was asleep, safe in Seven's embrace.

Andy sat on the side of Miranda's bed nervously fidgeting with her fingers. Every few moments, she'd jump up and pace the room before settling back down to sit on the bed. She couldn't help wondering what was taking Miranda so long. As the door opened to finally admit her soon to be lover, Andy leapt to her feet once again.

"Andréa, relax, please," Miranda said, closing and locking the door behind her before moving further into the room.

"I'm sorry. I just can't seem to sit still," Andy apologized with a shrug. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Perhaps the same thing that I'm feeling," Miranda offered. "I'm quite nervous about this, Andréa."

Andy smiled ruefully. "You look as calm as always, Miranda. I wouldn't have thought you were the slightest bit nervous."

"I've had a great deal more practice at hiding my emotions. Just because I don't readily show them does not mean they aren't there. I find myself in love with a woman half my age and having confessed to those feelings, I'm now alone with her for the first time…in my bedroom. I could quite easily be utterly terrified if I allowed myself to be so. However, more than anything, I want to be with you, Andréa. I want a chance for something beyond tonight. To have that I cannot allow my fears to rule me." Miranda had crossed the room as she spoke until she stood so close to Andy that a deep breath would have brought their bodies into contact. "I want you, Andréa. Tonight, tomorrow night, and every night for the rest of my life. The question is can you overcome your own fear enough to allow me to have you?"

_And that really is the question, isn't it?_ Andy's fear of the hurt Miranda could cause her had started the entire chain of events. Could she now put that fear aside, knowing what she did about Miranda and not just love her, but let herself be loved by the woman? Doing so would be the biggest risk she had ever taken. But then, how could she not? To have the chance to be with Miranda, to love her, to make love with her, could Andy really pass that up?

"What do you want, Miranda? How do you see this working?" She gestured between them to let Miranda know she meant their relationship and not just that night's activities, though she'd have liked to know that, too.

Miranda took her hand and led her to sit on the bed once again. She kept the hand in her own as she traced a finger over the slender knuckles, appearing deep in thought. "I would like the time and opportunity to get to know you outside of the office. I would like to date, to spend time together, both just us and with my children. I would like to take the time to see how things develop between us, but I am me, Andréa. Patience is not a virtue that I have in any great quantity. Nor does my notoriety allow for anonymously moving forward slowly. The first time I take you to dinner outside of this house the world will know of it. Plus there is the fact that you work for me, directly under me, if you'll forgive the phrasing, something that will carry only the vilest of connotations in the press. I realize very little of this answers your questions, so I will attempt to be more concise. I want you to take the position I offered you in editorial, regardless of how the opening came about, and I want you in my bed openly, now and forever," Miranda finished and sat waiting.

Andy huffed a sigh. "I can't take a job that you fired someone to give me." Andy held up her hand as Miranda started to object. "We'll find another alternative. I can get a job somewhere else. It might be better if I'm not where Irv can use me against you anyway. I'll have no trouble getting a job with your's or Nigel's recommendation. As for the rest, as long as the girls are good with it, you couldn't pry me out of this bed after tonight."

"Then make love with me, Andréa," Miranda said, sliding her hand behind Andy's neck and pulling her closer.

The kiss was soft, a sensual sliding of lips. It was the kind of kiss that brought the world to a standstill and caused hearts to lurch in panting chests. It reached down deep and created an ache that could only be satisfied by the other's touch. Andy lay back on the bed and drew Miranda with her. She wanted to feel Miranda's weight on top of her, pressing her down into the softness of the mattress, feel the heat of Miranda's body holding her down, imprinting on her senses. She opened her thighs, trapping Miranda between them as she accepted a hot probing tongue into her mouth. She sucked on Miranda's tongue, moaning low in her throat.

Fingers worked buttons and zippers as hands drew clothes from heated flesh until, at last, Andy's fantasies came to life with the feel of Miranda's naked flesh against her own. She moved her legs reveling in the feeingl of narrow hips against the insides of her thighs and rounded buttocks under her heels. Soft breasts pressed into hers, and Andy bit her lip to suppress a sob. This was Miranda's body on hers. Andy bit her lip again moments later to keep from screaming aloud as her nipple was enveloped in wet heat and Miranda began the steady pull and release of sucking.

"Let me hear you, Andréa. The rooms on this floor are sound-proofed," Miranda mumbled around her mouthful.

It was all Andy needed to know. Though vocal by nature, thin walls had always necessitated restraining herself in past encounters. From Miranda's first touch, Andy had feared she would end up chewing her lips to shreds or smothering herself with a pillow to keep from being heard outside the bedroom. Released from the need for such restraint, Andy practically sang as Miranda drove her higher and higher. Lips and fingers danced over her skin, eliciting moans and cries of pleasure as they moved down her body.

Andy lifted her head to look down at Miranda's head between her thighs and almost came from the sight alone. Soft white hair whispered over the skin of her inner thighs, tickling and stroking with each movement of Miranda's head. Andy groaned loudly, her head falling on the bed as Miranda's tongue stroked the length of her center. She could feel the arousal flowing out and toward the hot muscle that slid over her flesh. Grabbing at a pillow, Andy shoved it under her head. She wanted to see, to watch as Miranda took her. She fastened her eyes on that deep blue gaze as Miranda feasted on her tender flesh, nose rubbing against her clit randomly, sending shockwaves through her body.

"Miranda," Andy moaned. The blue seemed to twinkle at her as if Miranda knew her thoughts. Then Andy felt the deepest recesses of her core begin to stretch as Miranda pressed fingers into her. Knowing Miranda had small, delicate hands, Andy realized there were at least three fingers moving steadily up inside her.

Miranda pressed a kiss against the inside of one thigh. "What do you want, Andréa? It's your turn to tell me."

Barely able to think, Andy stared at Miranda for a moment until the words finally clicked in her consciousness. She blushed furiously, though what there was to be embarrassed about spread-naked with three of Miranda's fingers deep inside her body, Andy wasn't sure of, nor did she feel capable of reasoning it out. "Fuck me," she gasped. "I wa–want you to fuck me."

A roar rose from deep in Andy's belly as Miranda's hand began to move hard and fast. Soft lips fastened tightly around her clit and the effects of sucking alternated with a flashing tongue tore through her. The sensations wiped all thought from Andy's mind. She could only feel, feel what Miranda was doing to her. Her hips began to move independent from thought, meeting each stinging thrust of Miranda's fingers, accelerating the movements, adding to the power of Miranda's penetration. She was being taken, claimed by _her_ Miranda. Threading her fingers into that beautiful white hair, Andy wrapped her thighs around Miranda's head and arched towards her, screaming as her body exploded and the world imploded.

When Andy became aware of her surroundings once more, it was to the feel of soft skin against her body and lithe arms holding her securely. Lips moved gently over her face in delicate kisses. "Miranda," she murmured, arching against her lover.

"Hello again, Andréa. I was beginning to wonder if you would be rejoining me tonight," Miranda said with a warm smile.

Andy buried her face in Miranda's neck, feeling a blush warm her skin. "I'm sorry. I don't usually get that carried away or noisy. I didn't even take care of you."

A finger under her chin tipped Andy's face up to Miranda's. "Do…_not_…apologize for that. It was the single most _amazing_ sexual experience of my life. Just knowing that I could cause that reaction in you finished me off quite nicely. I would have joined you in sleep, but I wished to make sure that you were all right."

"I'm fine, Miranda. Wonderful, in fact," Andy grinned and then yawned strongly. "I'm sorry. I think you wiped me out."

"Yes, it appears I did," Miranda agreed with a decidedly smug look.

Andy laughed. "You're going to be insufferable now, aren't you?"

Miranda sniffed in disdain. "I'm always insufferable. I would wager to bet you find it quite stimulating."

Giggling, Andy nodded. "Yep, and how freaky does that make me that I get aroused when you get bitchy?"

"I predict that you will spend a great deal of your life wet if that is the case, Andréa," Miranda said in her haughtiest tone.

"Lucky me," Andy said with a moan as she pulled Miranda in for another deep, wet kiss.


	28. Chapter 26

Janeway awoke to an unfamiliar soft purring sound coming from just above her head. Her face was pressed to something warm and cushiony that rose and fell steadily, and there was a small protrusion poking in the inner corner of her eye. Her mind tried to wrap around the circumstances, but it was moving sluggishly due to her high level of comfort. Opening sleepy eyes, she was met with a mound of royal blue that obscured her vision of all else. Slowly, the previous day's events came back to her. _Seven._ Her head was resting on Seven's breast, and a tight nipple was poking in her eye. Lifting her head carefully, Janeway looked up. The strange purring sound was coming from Seven who was sound asleep and snoring softly. Janeway's smile was tender as she watched her love sleeping.

Exquisitely beautiful and with the body of a goddess, Seven had taken her breath away from the first moment Janeway had seen her standing in Cargo Bay 2. The sight of Seven in that silver biosuit had struck a chord deep within that Janeway had thought would never be played again. From that moment on she had fought with her baser instincts, constantly admonishing herself that to acknowledge her growing feelings for Seven would be a betrayal of her mentor status in the young woman's life. Now to find out that Seven returned her feelings and had for some time but had been waiting for Janeway to sort out her own issues with a possible relationship between them, was more than Janeway could ever have hoped for.

"Kathryn, if you continue to breathe on my areola in such a manner, I shall begin to object to your wish to 'take things slowly' most strenuously," Seven observed dryly.

Janeway suppressed a chuckle. Any doubts that she had held about Seven not being ready for a physical relationship were laid to rest quite effectively by her comment. "Good morning, Darling," she greeted, turning her face up for a kiss, which Seven quite happily provided.

"Good morning, Kathryn. I seem to have slept. I was not aware I could do so," Seven commented.

"Perhaps you were tired, Seven."

"I was not aware of being tired. I was holding you and listening to your soft, steady breathing. That is the last thing I remember until I awoke to you breathing upon my mammary glands," Seven explained, giving her an accusing stare.

Janeway pressed a kiss to the silk-covered breast in question. "It's a quite impressive pillow, Darling. I think it will quickly become my favorite."

"I believe it will prove more comfortable without the silk covering, Kathryn," Seven said with a sly twinkle in her eyes.

With a chuckle, Janeway pushed up to lean on one arm hovering over Seven. "I have a feeling you are going to prove to be a handful, Seven of Nine," she teased.

"I believe it will require both your hands to cover one of my breasts, Kathryn," Seven shot back with the hint of a smirk on her full lips.

Janeway gave a surprised bark of laughter before turning an evaluative gaze on the breasts in question. "I do believe you're right, Seven. Even that might not be enough. I may have to use my mouth as well to get all that covered." Janeway smiled to herself as she felt a shiver trace through Seven's body. _Oh, yes. Seven is definitely ready._ She noticed a frown marring the flawless complexion of her love. "What is it, Seven? What has you concerned?"

"Kathryn, are my mammary glands too large?" She stared at Janeway's chest before adding, "They seem unusually large in comparison to yours."

"Your breasts are larger than mine, Darling, but they're perfect for you," Janeway assured her. She had never realized Seven had issues with body image.

"But are they perfect for _you_?" Seven asked anxiously.

Janeway smiled, suddenly aware of what Seven's concern was. "Everything about you is perfect for me, Seven. I love you exactly as you are. And once we've wrapped up this mission and are home, I plan to show you just how much." Janeway grabbed at the bedding, finding herself nearly tossed to the floor as Seven bounded from the bed. "Seven," she gasped, "what's wrong?"

"There is nothing wrong, Kathryn. I merely wish to complete this mission as expeditiously as possible," Seven tossed over her shoulder as she disappeared into the en suite with her clothing over her arm. "How does one operate a water shower?" Seven called back from the other room.

Janeway collapsed on the bed laughing. Maybe she had finally found a way to get Seven to do things she didn't agree with. _Just promise her sex. Who knew?_ Kathryn chuckled as she rolled from the bed and strode into the en suite to help Seven adjust the shower. What she wasn't prepared for was a very naked Seven standing in the shower enclosure waiting for her. _Whoa! Two hands and a mouth may not be enough._

Clearing her throat and slamming her command mask into place, Janeway stepped over to the shower. "You might want to move back, Seven. The water can be quite cold when it first comes out of the nozzle." She waited until Seven was at the back of the shower before turning on the water and adjusting the temperature, allowing the water to spray onto her hand. She needed all of her considerable willpower to resist ogling the naked blonde standing so close, a fact that didn't appear to be lost on Seven if her smirk was anything to judge by. "You're a very beautiful woman, Seven," Janeway observed as she stared intently at the tile beneath the shower head. "I could quite easily be distracted by you, and there will be times I will welcome that distraction, but now isn't one of them. I won't lose you to that _bitch_, Seven," Janeway growled, fully aware that Seven knew she was talking about the Borg queen. She wasn't aware that Seven had moved closer until she felt a warm stomach against the back of her hand.

"I will not distract you, Kathryn. It was never my intention to do so. I was unaware that I could affect you in such a way by simply being unclothed until you came into the room," Seven explained in a contrite tone.

Janeway nodded, accepting the explanation. "I'm in love with you, Seven. You affect me simply by existing. Add to that the fact that I find you exquisite in every way, and you will always be a distraction for me, if I allow it."

"Then perhaps it would be better if we were not to be in a relationship. I would not want to have a detrimental influence on your ability to command," Seven said, though her sadness at the idea was clear in her voice.

"Oh, no, Seven. You don't get out of this that easily," Janeway shook her head. Turning, she met Seven's tear-filled eyes. Her own were filled with the confidence she felt, knowing she was saying the right thing for them both. "We belong together, Seven. We always have. You're mine now, and I have no intention of letting you go. So you get that idea right out of your head. Now take your shower while I can still let you do it alone." She strode from the bathroom without looking back, recognizing that if she did, not only would she be in that shower faster than the water could reach the floor, but also neither of them would be leaving it to move any farther than the bed for a good long time.

Serena opened her eyes as an insistent hand stroked over her stomach before tangling in the curls at the top of her thighs. "Emily," she moaned. "You are going to kill me. I cannot count the number of times you made me come last night. I am deliciously sore this morning. You must let me rest."

"I'll be gentle," Emily promised as she kissed her way down Serena's back. She knew she was being greedy, but she just couldn't resist having Serena once more.

"Emily, there is not that much gentle in the world," Serena sighed as soft lips pressed to the skin of her lower back.

"Yes, there is, Love. Just relax, and I'll show you," Emily encouraged before sliding her tongue over swollen lips. Serena's core really was very red so she moved as gently as possible while using delicate teasing strokes. It wasn't long before her efforts were rewarded as Serena's hips arched back off the bed and her legs spread wider to allow Emily more access. A flood of arousal soon met her tongue as Emily worked over the velvety lips and clit of her lover. She loved listening to Serena whimper and moan when she hit a particularly sensitive spot. The circular movements of Serena's hips and her rapid panting were clear signals that she was approaching her peak.

Emily had learned the signs during the long hours of the previous night as she had brought Serena to orgasm again and again. She had not devoted herself so fully to learning another person's tells since first going to work for Miranda. Then she had done so out of awe for the editor of _Runway_. Now she did so out of pure love for the amazing woman who professed to love her in return. Emily hummed as she planted sweet kisses on the soft lips alternating with teasing flicks on Serena's reddened clit. She moved slowly and easily waiting for that tiny squeal that would let her know Serena was ready. When it came, she sucked quickly on her lover's clit and was rewarded with a rush of fluid and roaring scream of her name. She moved up quickly and pressed herself to Serena's back wrapping her love tightly in her arms. Serena liked the security of being held as she recovered, and Emily always wanted her to feel safe and loved. The devotion she had once lavished on Miranda as first assistant she intended to now show to Serena and more.

She had crushed on Serena from the moment she first had seen her, but had been unable to hope for little more than friendship from such an extraordinarily beautiful woman. It hadn't been long before Emily knew her feelings had become much more than friendship, but she knew better than to take Serena's flirty ways seriously. Since Serena seemed born to flirt, and did so as easily as breathing, Emily kept telling herself _not_ to take Serena's overtures as anything more than a friendly teasing. She really did want it to be more, however.

Now as she lay holding Serena in her arms, Emily could not believe how dense she'd been. They had talked between their bouts of lovemaking last night, and Emily had been amazed to learn that Serena had felt the same way throughout their friendship. Emily couldn't believe what a right git she'd been. To think that if it hadn't been for Nigel she might never have realized that Serena wanted her just as much was mind boggling. Oh, sure, Andrea had said as much many times, but Emily just took that as more teasing among friends.

"Querida, we must dress or we will be late," Serena murmured and stretched languidly.

Emily felt helpless to do more than watch that long body as Serena arched flexing perfectly formed muscles. She reached out to pull Serena close again, only to find hands on her shoulders holding her off.

"No, Emily. We must go to work, and I need the rest. If you are very good today, you may have me again tonight," Serena said with a wink.

"Define good," Emily shot back.

"No fighting with B'Elanna. Whatever happened yesterday, it was unlike her. You must let it go."

Emily huffed, frowning and crossing her arms over her chest. "Bleeding cow deserves a good smack."

Serena traced a finger down the center of her lover's body. "I promise you will be well rewarded for your efforts."

"Right. Well then, in the shower with you. I'll let your fangirl live as long as she remembers her place," Emily grudgingly promised. She couldn't suppress a smile as Serena's laugh tinkled across her ears.

"B'Elanna is Latina. She might hurt you, Querida. I could not have that," Serena cautioned.

"I'd stake that bloody vamp with my new Jimmy Choos," Emily sniffed. "Now get on with you. Miranda will be there, and if we're less than fifteen minutes early we'll be late."

Miranda poured herself a cup of coffee and took a bracing sip of the steaming infusion, sighing in satisfaction. The things Kathryn had shared with her last night had her seriously concerned for her girls. It was clear that the ground work for the attitude toward relationships for at least one of them had been laid by herself and her inability to make a lasting romantic connection. Miranda didn't think that Janeway had reached that conclusion yet, but it was just a matter of time until she did. What Kathryn had said about the journals, the negativity that had appeared in some of the passages, and the general subject matter of the same passages made a clear picture for Miranda.

The turning point for Andréa had been in Paris. After sleeping for a time, they had awakened during the night and made love again. Cuddling and talking afterward, Andréa had shared much of the conversation she'd shared with Seven earlier in the den. Andréa had been intent on walking away after what Miranda had done to Nigel and the words she'd said later in the car. Faced with that knowledge, Miranda knew she would have gone after her. Perhaps not right away, but she would have eventually found her and attempted to at least form a friendship on a more equal footing. She most definitely would not have blackballed Andréa and would even have provided a reference in her own way. With Andréa returning her feelings, they would have found their way to each other before now. So much time lost, time her girls could not afford evidently.

Moving to stand before the kitchen window, Miranda looked out at the small garden in her backyard. Many of the houses on her street had small garages or paved parking areas in that space off the alley running the length of the block, but Miranda had paid to have the concrete removed and topsoil brought in when she'd learned she was pregnant. Children needed space to play and enjoy the sunlight and greenery, without having to be under the constant vigilance of a nanny or parent as was required in a park. The high walls with their motion sensors kept out undesirables and allowed her children a sense of safety. Her daughters were unaware that Miranda could sit at her desk in her study and keep a watchful eye on them as they played. They had a perception of freedom and the confidence that brought. All in all, it was one of her best investments and paid extraordinary dividends in the bell-like laughter that rang out as her girls played in the yard.

She had tried so hard to ensure they did not grow up with the uncertainty and fear that she had known in her childhood. She had married and remarried, thinking they required a stable father figure, when in truth they only had needed to see a solid, working relationship. The kind Miranda knew she could build with Andréa. There were many things she did not like about turning fifty, but one that she did was the knowledge that she finally knew how to make a relationship last. Happily ever after on its own was as much a fairy tale as the stories the phrase ended. A successful relationship was as much a job as her position at _Runway._ It required work and a willingness to compromise, including putting the other person before one's own selfish desires. Something neither she nor Stephen had been willing to do. Yet, it was something that she felt Andréa instinctively knew.

Andréa's withdrawal from their lives had taught Caroline and Cassidy the opposite of what they should have been learning, that love and happily ever after could truly exist. What they had learned instead was that everyone left, men and women, and that no one could be truly trusted with their hearts. It was the wrong message, and one Miranda had contributed to herself. With Andréa staying at _Runway_, Miranda thought it was enough to just have her nearby, unaware that her girls were absorbing the unhappiness she'd tried to hide from them. Well, no more. She had no intention of hiding her love for Andréa. It would not be easy. There were a great many things against them, but they would persevere and win. Miranda would see to that. Andréa, her children, their family together would come first. She had spent many years showing her children what could come of hard work, now it was her responsibility to teach them that those same principles could bring joy, love, and commitment to their lives. It only had required finding someone just as dedicated to those ideals as she was.

Refilling her cup, Miranda moved into the den and stood looking out a window, watching the people moving about on the sidewalks and street. Somewhere out there was a man who had tried to destroy her chance at happiness, and more importantly to Miranda, any chance her children had at the same. To say that was unacceptable to Miranda was the greatest understatement of all time. With Kathryn's assistance, she was going to find him and if it was in her power, she would destroy him personally even if that meant she had to call in every favor she was ever owed and hand out markers of her own indiscriminately. She'd toss them to Irv by the handfuls if it would undo what that bastard had wrought.

She heard movement in the room behind her, though she did not turn from the view before her. The tread was too light to be Andréa or Seven and too heavy to be one of her girls.

"Kathryn, we are going to find him and when we do, I will personally drive Louboutin's newest stiletto through his heart. No one _fucks_ with my family, current or future, and walks away scot-free," Miranda said in the cold, level tones that had been known to release the bladders of the most stalwart of individuals. She turned and fixed her descendant with a piercing gaze. "Where do we start?"


	29. Chapter 27

Andy woke up alone, hand reaching out instinctively to the space beside her. She was disappointed when she felt the coolness of the sheets. Miranda had evidently been up for a while, so it was doubtful she'd be coming back to bed. Stretching luxuriously, Andy smiled at the faint twinges and lingering soreness in her muscles. Miranda had been amazing last night, wringing from her body responses even Andy hadn't realized herself capable of. Andy covered her mouth with one hand to stifle a giggle. She had thought she'd had an active sex life with Nate; he'd be none too happy if he realized a woman twice his age was more virile than he'd ever dreamed of being. Andy pulled a pillow over her face and howled with laughter. Miranda had him so outclassed. She was a fierce lover bringing the same single-minded attention to detail and obsession with perfection to their bed that she showed at work. Andy had never felt so wanted, desired, and loved as she did in Miranda's arms.

Rolling from the bed, Andy grabbed the robe laid across the end of the bed and headed for the shower, smiling at Miranda's thoughtfulness. She wanted to be clean, and then she wanted to see her lover. Andy shivered at the thought of feeling Miranda's arms around her and feeling those soft lips against hers again.

"No. I refuse to allow it," Miranda stated flatly. "No one wants to catch this man more than I do, but I adamantly refuse to have Andréa used as bait." She stood stiffly in the middle of her kitchen, arms crossed defiantly over her chest. It was clear Miranda did not intend to budge an inch.

"Miranda, I understand how you feel. I wouldn't be thrilled with the idea if we were talking about Seven, but I honestly don't see another way. He's made no attempt to hurt Andy," Kathryn argued.

"Yet! You forgot to add yet," Miranda snapped. "From what Andréa has said, he's been there every time she's waivered with staying at _Runway._ How could he know what she's thinking? He's clearly watching her. That much is evident, which I intensely dislike. That he seems able to read her mind is too horrifying to contemplate."

Janeway stopped. How did he know what Andy was thinking? Seven had filled her in on the conversation she'd had with Andy last night, so Janeway was aware that whoever he was, he always seemed to appear whenever Andy was thinking of leaving Miranda. How _did_ he know?

"He is sampling the future," Seven spoke from behind her.

Janeway jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of Seven behind her. She turned to face her love. "Seven! I thought you were keeping the twins occupied."

"They are currently preparing for something they call a 'rematch.' It seems Caroline Priestly does not believe that my hand-eye coordination is far superior. She believes that she can 'beat me' with sufficient practice. I do not think she will be successful," Seven stated confidently.

"You do have a somewhat unfair advantage, Seven, " Janeway said, smirking.

"Indeed," Seven responded with her own tiny smirk.

"What do you mean sampling the future?" Miranda asked.

Seven looked at Janeway and, receiving a nod of confirmation, continued, "He is leaping back and forth in time. Based on the original timeline, I believe he has theorized that if Six leaves your side at _Runway,_ you would confess your feelings to keep her with you in your private life. After each interaction with Six, he moves ahead in a time a specified distance and checks to see the outcome. If you have begun to form a relationship with Six at that point, he has merely to ascertain when she left your employ and return to deflect her from that path."

"He would have had to make more than three leaps through time, which means he may well have temporal psychosis," Janeway theorized, resting one hand on her hip and gesturing with the other as she spoke. "If that's true, then he'd be displaying erratic, irrational behavior, but the man Andy described seemed to be in full control of his faculties. How is he able to leap around like that and not show signs of the effects?"

"Such leaps would radically increase his risk of developing temporal psychosis," Seven agreed. "Though it would not guarantee his doing so. We have no way of knowing how advanced technology has become in the centuries beyond our own. It is possible Starfleet devised a way to avoid the symptoms."

Janeway rubbed her temples. "I hate time travel."

"An understandable reaction," Miranda observed. "How he is managing to do it seems less important at the moment than the fact that he is doing so. We should be concentrating on how to stop him _without _involving Andréa."

Janeway turned to face her. "Miranda, I've already told you we can't _not_ involve Andy. She's the only one he's contacted. If he thinks she's leaving _Runway, _he'll make contact again, and we'll have him." Janeway stood resolutely, hands on hips.

"Unacceptable," Miranda snapped.

Janeway shook her head with a rueful grin. "That's usually Seven's line," she quipped.

"Then perhaps you should listen to Seven more often," Miranda responded.

Even with her back to Seven, Janeway knew what she would say to that. She held up her hand to stop Seven from speaking. "Don't say it, Seven," she cautioned and suppressed a grin at the disgruntled huff she heard from behind her.

"Then I'll say it," Andy's voice interrupted them from where she stood in the doorway, leaning her hip against the frame, arms folded. "Kathryn, sometimes Seven does know better than you, and Miranda, the same applies to me, so please let me make my own decisions. I take it you need me to catch this guy that's been trying to keep Miranda and me apart romantically. Would someone like to explain to me why it's necessary we catch him at all? I'm with Miranda now, and _no one_ is going to change that."

"As of this moment, all anyone knows is you accompanied us to Miranda's last night and remained until this morning. However, once we all walk out the door and start the day, people will know what we want them to, which for right now needs to be that nothing has changed between the two of you. There's more at stake here than just your relationship to Miranda. There are lives at stake." Kathryn said, hoping Andy would just accept her limited explanation.

Still leaning on the doorframe, Andy looked from face to face. "I'm not embarrassed to say that Miranda is an amazing lover; however, I doubt she's going to get me pregnant without a bit of medical assistance, so you're going to have to do better than that, Kathryn."

Janeway wasn't sure how she was going to manage to convince Andy that they were in fact from the future. It had been difficult enough with Miranda, and there had been several secrets from Miranda's past in the journal she had kept that gave Janeway an advantage. Andy had no such secrets, and she was at heart a journalist, making it that much harder to convince her without revealing everything.

"I don't suppose you'd accept a simple explanation of us coming from the future to correct a change in the timeline here?" Janeway asked.

"Miranda?" Andy inquired, looking at her lover.

"Kathryn has provided me with significant evidence to prove her claim. I believe her, Andréa. Kathryn is my direct descendant," Miranda stated calmly.

"Whose lives?" Andy asked without commenting on Miranda's statements.

"Every successive generation between one of my girls and Kathryn with the addition of Seven and B'Elanna," Miranda responded promptly.

"And this guy that's been talking to me caused all that?" Andy continued her line of inquiry.

"To be accurate, your not leaving Miranda Priestly in Paris is the direct cause," Seven corrected. "He is the instigator of that action."

Andy nodded and stared down at her bare toes for moment. Finally, she looked back up and met Kathryn's gaze. "So what do I have to do to catch him?"

"Andréa, you will not endanger yourself in this way," Miranda objected.

Sighing, Andy crossed the room to her lover, the robe she wore fluttering around her ankles. She took Miranda's face in her palms and kissed her gently. "You're my family now. The girls are my family. That makes Kathryn my family too, as well as my friend. I know she had a lot to do with you finally telling me how you feel. I owe her for that if for nothing else. No one messes with my family if I can stop it, Miranda."

"I _cannot_ lose you," Miranda insisted, pulling Andy into her arms.

"You're not going to lose me, Baby. We're just going to put on an exceptionally good performance for the rest of the world. You do that every day," Andy teased.

Miranda looked at Janeway over Andy's shoulder. "If _any_ harm comes to Andréa, or if this man manages to change time again and she is no longer with me, you will regret your continued existence, descendant or no," Miranda threatened.

"That's my Dragon Lady," Andy joked affectionately, patting Miranda on the behind where she thought no one could see.

Having picked up on the subtle movements, Janeway suppressed her laughter when Miranda pushed Andy away and blushed furiously.

"Do not think you will escape a similar fate should you do something foolish like get yourself killed," Miranda warned Andy.

Andy laughed and shook her head. "If I'm dead, how will you make my life miserable?"

"I'll manage it, Andréa. Do not doubt me," Miranda snapped, pulling Andy close once again and kissing her furiously.

"I believe Miranda Priestly would manage to do so," Seven murmured in Janeway's ear, quirking an eyebrow when Janeway choked on her laughter.

"At least now I know my mother comes by it naturally," Janeway quipped. Her attention was diverted by a large furry dog lumbering into the room. Dropping to her knees beside the animal, she ruffled the fur around the dog's ears. "And who are you, you beautiful thing?"

"That's Patricia," Cassidy said. "She stays upstairs when Mom has company for dinner, but I thought it would be okay since you're still here." Her eyes widened as she noticed what her mother was doing. "Mom!" she squeaked. "You're kissing Andy!"

Turning in her lover's arms, Miranda smiled at her daughter. "Yes, Bobbsey, I am. And I plan on continuing to do so whenever the opportunity presents itself. We talked about this last night, remember?"

"I remember. But it's sort of different to _see_ it, even if I think it's great," Cassidy grinned, then sobered. "I don't know how Caro's gonna feel about it though. She's still pretty upset with Andy."

"She seemed all right at dinner last night," Andy observed.

Cassidy rolled her eyes. "We had company." She gestured to Janeway and Seven. "We know how to behave when there are guests in the house. Think about it, Andy. Caroline was _company polite_ to you last night."

"Yeah, you're right," Andy agreed frowning.

_If Caroline is still upset with Andy, that could be the cause of the symptoms we're still having,_ Janeway thought. Exchanging a look with Seven, she could tell that her love was thinking similarly. If that was true, then Miranda and Andy needed to have a long talk with the child before Janeway explained how she wanted to carry out the next part of her plan. Otherwise, neither she, Seven nor B'Elanna would be in any condition to capture the man behind all this. More and more she was thinking it was Braxton, though she couldn't imagine how he'd managed to get loose in the timeline again.

"It might be a good idea if you talk to her, Andy," Janeway suggested while giving Miranda a significant look.

"I don't know," Andy began with a frown. "It might be better if Miranda talked to her."

"No," Cassidy interrupted. "You have to do it, Andy. She threw her journal out when you didn't seem to want to be our friend anymore."

"Why ever would Caroline do that, Darling?" Miranda asked in concern.

"She…well, she said there weren't going to be any good things to write about. It was all just going to be different kinds of bad," Cassidy admitted.

"Caroline had an assignment to keep a positive affirmation journal, writing about the good things that happened. She fell in love with the idea and now has us all keeping them," Miranda explained at Andy's confused look.

"The beginning of a family tradition," Janeway remarked and smiled at Miranda's faint look of surprise.

"Cassidy, did you by any chance assist your sister in not losing that journal completely?" Miranda asked.

Cassidy blushed and stubbed the toe of her shoe on the tile. "I thought she might change her mind and regret it," she mumbled. "If she didn't, I could always throw it away later."

Moving across the kitchen, Miranda hugged her daughter. "Keep it safe for her," she whispered. "I believe she might yet want it. Now, how about we prepare breakfast for our guests, while Andréa speaks with Caroline?"


	30. Chapter 28

Janeway grabbed at the arms of the chair she was sitting in as a wave of dizziness swept over her. They had moved to the study to wait for Andy while she spoke with Caroline. Cassidy had gone to her room to shower and dress for school.

"Kathryn, are you all right?" Miranda asked, half rising from her chair only to stop at Janeway's upraised hand.

"Fine. I'm fine," she reassured, smiling ruefully. "It would appear Caroline is a bit harder to convince than Cassidy." She rested her head against the back of the chair and drew a shaky breath.

"You are sure this is the best solution?" asked Seven who stood at Janeway's side. "This man has only to leap to the future to know that the situation with Caroline Priestly is resolved."

"I'm hoping he'll do just that, Seven," Janeway said. "It will give him the incentive to try contacting Andy again, to reverse whatever actions we take to fix this mess. In addition, we can't very well be having these episodes when we capture him. This is the best way to go."

"I still don't like it," Miranda said, retaking her seat. "What's to stop him from deciding that the most appropriate action to permanently alter my life and Caroline's is to take Andréa out of the picture completely?"

"And make her a beloved martyr?" Janeway waved the idea away. "I don't think so. Too many uncontrollable variables with that scenario. He's using much more subtle methods this time."

"This time?" Miranda leapt on the phrase.

"I think I know who this may be, and if I'm right, he's tried this before. Attacking me directly didn't work for him the first time, so he's going after my ancestors. He's hoping to avoid detection by the authorities in his time frame by these sneak attacks."

"Kathryn, it concerns me that Captain Ducane and _Relativity_ have not become involved in this situation. While they might allow for your removal from the timeline, I do not think they would be as understanding of our involvement, especially since you have now made Miranda Priestly aware of our mission," Seven said.

"They're out there, Seven. Watching and waiting to see what the final outcome will be. I'm counting on it. If we can't fix this ourselves, we can hopefully cause enough of a disruption to force them to make the corrections." Janeway pressed a hand against her abdomen. "Always have a fallback position, Seven," she advised.

They all turned to look at the door as loud footsteps were heard on the stairs.

"Six is not pleased," Seven commented just before the door to the study was thrown open and Andy stormed into the room.

"I swear to you, Miranda, the moment that kid steps into the business world, you'll lose your title as Dragon Lady. She's more infuriating than you ever dared to be," Andy raged as she paced back and forth. "I can't believe anyone that young can be that stubborn."

Miranda leaned back in her chair with a smirk curling her elegant lips and watched as Andy stomped back and forth, swinging her arms and continuing with her rant.

"You might make clackers hide under their desks, but she'll have them digging foxholes under there and setting up machinegun nests in the closet," Andy fumed.

"Andréa, are you about done?" Miranda asked in her chilliest tones, though her eyes sparkled with mirth.

"What?" Andy paused and turned to face her lover. "Oh, yeah, sorry. But damn, Miranda. And there are two of them!"

"Cassidy, as you well know, has a personality more like your own. I'm not sure quite where she gets it as her father and I are much less tolerant. Caroline is indeed very much like me. We would not be here if she weren't. Now perhaps you'd like to have a seat and tell us what transpired during your little talk. It did not go well, I presume." Miranda gestured to the couch only to find herself with a lap full of repentant brunette.

"I'm sorry," Andy sighed, hugging Miranda. "I tried everything I could think of. She just wouldn't listen."

Unused to anyone beside her daughters being so openly affectionate with her, Miranda nevertheless wrapped her arms loosely around a slender waist. "She listened," Miranda assured her. "Caroline will weigh your words against your coming actions. Only then will she make a decision."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Andy sighed and snuggled against Miranda's shoulder. "I don't like this. I don't want to go back to being mad at you." Andy curled closer, hiding her face in Miranda's neck.

"Andréa, I…" Miranda glanced helplessly at Janeway who shrugged in return. Evidently Kathryn was no more experienced in dealing with an unhappy younger lover than she was, and Miranda doubted that Seven displayed such overt affection or need. She wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed by the public display or incensed by it. No one ever just sat in her lap uninvited, not since the twins were toddlers, anyway. Perhaps that wasn't such a good thing after all. The woman in her lap was warm and loving, and very much in need of reassurance at the moment. Miranda tightened her arms, pulling Andy closer and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "Darling, it will only be for a short time. The better we play our parts, the quicker it will be over. You explained as much as you could to Caroline, I'm sure, and I will reiterate that explanation. When it's all over, we will have years together to show her what a truly loving relationship is. We'll be a family, Andréa, and nothing and no one will separate us again." Miranda felt moisture slide down her neck and realized that her love was crying silently. Thoughts of spectators were wiped away by that knowledge. "Andréa, I love you. It has taken me far too long to find you to ever let you go again. You belong with me, and I will tolerate nothing less. I know that you're upset with the situation - channel that. Use your anger, and show me how much you dislike being separated from me. Let him see it and think it is directed at me. Can you do this, Andréa? For me? For_ us_?"

Miranda felt the movement of a nod against her neck followed by a series of sniffles. Andy sat up and wiped her tears with her fingers. "Okay, for you. I'll show my ass and scream about what an arrogant bitch you are," Andy said, then rolled her eyes and shuddered. "I can't believe I just said that."

"It will probably be the only time in our relationship where you get to do so without ending up sleeping on the couch for a month, Darling. Enjoy it," Miranda advised with a smirk.

Andy nodded, clearly not convinced. "So when do we do this?"

"Now's as good a time as any," Janeway said, slapping her hands on her thighs and rising to her feet. "Seven, alert the doctor not to respond to the alert sensor when I collapse. If this man doesn't already know how many of us are here, we don't want to clue him in. Miranda, you're going to have to let your girls react however they do naturally. You can talk to them afterwards. Hearing an explanation of this and actually seeing it will be two different things. Andy, be sure to leave the front door wide open as you storm out. I want him to see as much as possible."

"You're assuming he's out there watching," Andy said as she left Miranda's lap and moved to a mirror to wipe at her cheeks with a tissue she pulled from the box on a nearby table.

"Oh, he's watching. I'd be willing to bet he's keeping constant tabs on you, too. Seven scanned the house last night as we arrived. There are no listening devices here, but they could easily be in Miranda's office, your apartment, the car, or anywhere else the two of you frequent together. He's been constantly gauging your interactions, so we need to assume that no place is safe from eavesdropping from now on. If we need to speak again, I have a place that should be safe for us to talk. We'll need a code word to indicate the need to do so, something that would be common in your day to mention."

"Irv Ravitz," Miranda responded immediately. "It's well known we don't _play nicely_ together. He insists I call him_ Irv_. Dreadful name. Andréa refers to him by his surname. A small change in that should not be noticed. I'll simply use Irving, a much better choice of nomenclature, and Andréa will use his full name, as Seven does with everyone."

"If you ever get tired of fashion, you should consider espionage, Miranda," Janeway said laughingly.

"Mmm. It has been suggested," Miranda replied.

"Now,_ that's_ a story I have to hear," Janeway rejoined.

"Perhaps I'll include it in a journal one day," Miranda said with a significant look. "Shall we begin? The sooner this is done, the sooner I will have Andréa back with me. If you'll give us just a moment?" She waited until Janeway and Seven had left the room before turning and taking Andy in her arms. "Whatever is said from now until this man is caught will be forgotten. I want you to be as vicious as you can manage, and I will do the same. He must believe you are going to leave _Runway_. I'm going to give you no choice but to be at the studio this morning to retain your job. Go to your apartment, change, and have coffee near the studio. Appear undecided. Whether he contacts you or not, I expect you to be no more than fifteen minutes late, and do not forget my coffee," Miranda directed.

"Your cof…" Andy rolled her eyes. "Yes, Miranda." She threw her arms around Miranda's neck and kissed her ravenously. "I love you," she whispered against Miranda's lips.

"And I love you," Miranda replied, seeking one more kiss. She slid her lips against Andy's, probing with her tongue, wanting to leave an impression that would last for as long as they were apart. Her hands moved over the landscape of Andy's body, stroking hills and valleys. She broke the kiss to concentrate on the delicate skin of Andy's neck, murmuring between nips and kisses. "Feel me, Andréa. Do not forget this. It waits for you_. I_ wait for you. Regardless of the future, we'll be together. We'll warn every successive generation, if we must, but he will not keep us apart indefinitely." She reclaimed Andy's lips again and plundered her mouth, making love to her darling with lips and tongue. At last, she moved away and reached to smooth her hair which had been ruffled by Andy's fingers. Her lover seemed to have a fascination for her white locks that no one else had ever shared.

"I _hate _him," Andy snapped, fury flashing from brown depths.

"Use it," Miranda advised. She opened the door to the study and exited, Andréa on her heels. Janeway and Seven were waiting for them in the foyer, and Miranda caught sight of two red heads ducking below the railing on the floor above. It was now or never. "Really, Andréa," she began in a waspish tone. "Are you so irreparably mentally challenged that you cannot complete the simplest of assignments?" She did not leave Andy time to answer. "How difficult is it to oversee a shoot? And whatever possessed you to think your image would ever grace the pages of _Runway?_ I only use _thin_ models, as you well know. The lot of you are as graceful as buffalo. I am now forced to use substandard photos for sheer lack of time to redo the shoot."

"There's nothing wrong with the pictures, Miranda," Andy shot back, clearly stung by the attack. "I didn't want to do the damned shoot in the first place. I thought it would be helping you if I did."

"Thought? You _thought_?" Miranda scoffed. "Clearly _thinking_ is not your strong point. I would suggest you not try to do so in the future."

Andy stormed towards the door, threw it open, and stepped through before turning back to address Miranda. "The only mistaken thought I've had is thinking _you_ had a heart. I won't make that error again. I'm done with you, Miranda."

"You will be at the studio this morning with my coffee in hand, or you may consider yourself unemployed," Miranda snapped, advancing on Andy with every word. She ignored the faint thuds behind her that she knew signaled Janeway and Seven collapsing to the floor, as she did the strangled "Mom!" from above.

"No, I'll consider myself resigned. Get your own damned coffee. My _fat ass_ can't be bothered," Andy shot back, fists clenched at her sides.

"Your prominent derriere will be there, or you will never work in publishing again. And remember, the coffee, extra hot. That's all." Miranda shut the door in Andy's face. She slumped forward and pressed her forehead to the door. "Forgive me, Darling," she whispered, suddenly terrified that she had gone too far. She was well aware that Andy had body image issues where she was concerned. It was the one button Miranda knew she could push and get an immediate reaction from her lover. _Please don't let me have lost her._

They finished the shoot, though the day proved to be the tensest any of the _Runway_ staff could remember. Andy arrived fifteen minutes late with lukewarm coffee for Miranda and smirked when their boss shuddered at the first sip. Miranda glared at her but didn't comment on it which surprised everyone. She went into full Dragon mode from there on out, finding fault and belittling everyone and their efforts until she had to leave to attend a meeting with a new designer and they could all breathe a sigh of relief.

"What bug crawled up her ass and died?" Emily snapped as the door closed behind Miranda.

"The love bug, Querida," Serena supplied. "I do not believe Miranda's night went as well as ours did.

"Ruddy hell, Andrea, how difficult is it to push her legs open and shove your fingers in? Can't you even do that right?" Emily asked, shocking them all when she didn't show her usual reverence for Miranda. "Has the fat blocked off your brain?" She gaped as tears welled in Andy's eyes.

"Shut up, Emily! For once, please, just shut up!" Andy yelled and ran from the room.

Emily looked at her lover, astonished by the response from their friend.

"I think you have hit a nerve," Serena observed.

"I think you danced a jig on it," B'Elanna added, frowning. "I know all of you are really concerned with weight, but do you really think Miranda would have rejected Andy over that?"

"Miranda wouldn't reject Andrea if she was the size of a bleeding house and got all her clothes from Omar, the wanking tent maker," Emily snapped. "Have you talked to Kathryn or Seven this morning? Maybe they know what's going on?"

B'Elanna shook her head. "I haven't had a chance. Miranda hasn't exactly left anyone much time to chat so far."

"She's in a right foul mood even for her," Emily agreed. "If those two don't work it out and bloody well soon, I'm locking them both in a room and throwing away the key until I hear moans of ecstasy coming out of there."

"I would not choose that moment to open the door," Serena advised. "But it is a good plan. I will help you."


	31. Chapter 29

The following days were even more of a trial for the staff of _Runway_. With the shoot over and Andy back in the office, Miranda had advanced in her torture methods sufficiently to add several rings to the circles of hell. Emily was taking bets on the actual number they would reach before flames began licking at the lower floors of the building. Seven continued in her ultra-efficient manner, overlooking even the most vicious of Miranda's attacks. Andy's moods had become even darker, and she no longer smiled at anyone, not even her friends. She was chillingly civil to Miranda, but had now adopted Emily's former hiding places. She seemed intent on being anywhere that Miranda wasn't.

Janeway and B'Elanna were working closely with the art department at Miranda's insistence. Andy's dark mood had carried over into the shoot, leaving the images with a melancholy atmosphere that had worked well with the nostalgic lines of the gowns. It was a startling counterpoint to the blazing sensuality that had been present in the images shot on the day before. The entire issue had been reworked around the theme of love and loss. The days had been long and the work challenging, but Nigel was proclaiming it to be the best edition yet.

The Voyager crew was gathered in the shuttle at the end of another long day. No one had stepped forward to contact Andy that first day or on any of the succeeding ones.

"So now what?" B'Elanna asked, slouching down in her chair. "Andy's miserable, Miranda's miserable, the group at _Runway _is ready to revolt just based on Miranda's mood, and we're no closer to catching this guy than we were before."

"Unfortunately, we are also out of time," Seven added. "We must leave in the next 2.43 hours, or we will not be at the designated coordinates when Voyager opens the rift."

Janeway sat, staring into her coffee. She'd been afraid of this all along and she could only see one course of action available to her. She raised her eyes to look first at the doctor and then at B'Elanna, her friends, before turning her eyes to Seven, whom she loved with every breath in her body. "You'll take the shuttle and be at the rendezvous point on time," she stated decisively.

"You mean _we_, don't you?" B'Elanna responded.

"No, I mean you, Seven, and the doctor. I'm going to stay behind and continue the mission. There's no sense in all of us being stuck here."

"I do not consider remaining with you as being _stuck_, Kathryn," Seven said in clipped tones.

Janeway reached out to pat her hand. "I know you don't, Darling, but, nonetheless, I _am_ the captain. I'm ordering you to go back. Voyager needs you, all of you."

"Need I remind you I am not Starfleet, Kathryn. I follow your orders at my discretion. I choose not to in this instance. I will remain," Seven stated, folding her arms and adopting a stubborn look. "You have made me a promise, Kathryn. My returning to Voyager alone will not be conducive to your keeping that promise."

Blushing slightly, Janeway looked to B'Elanna for assistance only to receive a negligent shrug.

"Hey, I'm Maquis," she said, as if that explained everything; Janeway supposed it did.

"Well, Doctor?" Janeway looked to the last member of her crew.

"I came on this mission because B'Elanna and Seven have need of my particular medical knowledge. I don't see where that's changed if they're staying, Captain."

Janeway rubbed her temples with slender fingers. "You do realize this could be viewed as mutiny," she commented.

"The Federation won't even be formed for almost another one hundred and sixty years, Captain," B'Elanna corrected. "How can we mutiny against something that doesn't even exist yet?"

"Indeed," Seven agreed.

Throwing up her hands, Janeway leaned back in her chair. "All right, we stay. B'Elanna, I'm sure you can think of a way to contact the ship through the rift and let them know. I guess we'll be making a living with photography. Now, we still have a mission to complete. Any ideas on how to catch our mystery man?"

"Captain, though his actions were to keep Six at _Runway_, his intent has been to keep Six and Miranda Priestly from entering into a relationship. I believe our current actions have assisted him in achieving his goal," Seven observed.

"You're right, Seven. They're both suffering, and there's no reason for it. The way to draw him out is to have them together. Seven, contact Andy and tell her the good news. We're going to stake out the townhouse. If this doesn't draw him out, I don't know what will."

Andy was stretched out on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn't know how much longer she could continue with this. The stress was getting to them both. Andy was having trouble even being on the same floor as her lover, and Miranda was going to bring back drawing and quartering any day now. Andy kept waiting to hear the words, "Off with her head!" shouted from the editor's office during a run-through. Groaning, she grabbed a pillow and, rolling to her side, pressed it into her abdomen. It was a futile measure, though, as nothing could help with the constant ache that thoughts of Miranda brought. Even giving herself a helping hand had fallen short of the memory of what Miranda could do to her body with the smallest touch. And it wasn't all sex. She'd give anything to just be able to hold Miranda in her arms as they slept, or hold her hand while watching TV. Anything was better than this constant pain of being without her.

When her phone rang, Andy grabbed it without checking to see who was calling, snarling a harsh, "Hello?"

"Six, that is not a proper greeting," Seven's cool tones came through the speaker.

"Sorry, Seven," Andy sighed. "I'm not in the greatest of moods right now."

"Indeed," Seven agreed. "Perhaps I can assist you with the problem. Kathryn wishes you to know that remaining distant from Miranda Priestly is counterproductive to our mutual goal."

Andy was silent for a moment while she translated Seven-speak into everyday English. Her eyes widened as she realized what Seven was saying. "Oh, Seven! I love you!" she shouted.

"I do not believe Miranda Priestly would be pleased to hear that," Seven replied.

Andy giggled, having learned to appreciate Seven's unique sense of humor over the last weeks. "Thanks, Seven. I'm going over to Miranda's. Bye." Ending the call, Andy scrambled around to find her shoes and grab a coat. She didn't pause to change, having completely forgotten about what she was wearing in her haste to reach her lover for the first time in nearly a week. She ran out of her apartment, barely stopping to make sure the door was closed and locked.

Hurrying along the street, she swung around the newel post at the subway entrance and tripped down the steps, her sneakers skimming the steps as she rushed. Too anxious to sit, she wrapped an arm around a pole and tapped her toe in impatience as the stops rolled by. She couldn't suppress a huge grin at the surprise she pictured on Miranda's face when Andy showed up at her door. Reaching the correct stop, Andy raced the distance to Miranda's home and took the steps two at a time. She leaned on the doorbell, anxious to see Miranda in a setting where she could indulge her need to touch. It seemed forever before the door opened, and Andy was looking at a confused Cassidy.

"Hey, Cass. I came to see your mom," Andy grinned.

"Ummm…she's not here right now," Cassidy hedged.

"Will she be back soon?" Andy asked, perfectly willing to wait until Miranda arrived.

"I doubt it. She's on a date," Caroline's voice carried from behind her sister, laced with more than a hint of vindictiveness.

"I…she…a date? Right," Andy stumbled over her words. _Did Miranda get tired of waiting? Was all that stuff she said just her blowing smoke to get what she wanted?_ The only thing Andy knew for sure was that she had to get out of there before she lost it. "Okay, well, I'll just be going. You guys have a good night." She turned and started down the steps just as a long black limo pulled up to the curb. A tall, handsome, grey-haired man climbed out of the back on the far side and hurried around to assist someone from the car. _Miranda._ Now Andy really had to get away. She had no desire to confront Miranda and her…_date_.

Hurrying down the steps, Andy slid by Miranda, ignoring her call as she took off down the street. She forced herself not to run, but settled into a swift stride that took her quickly away. Shoulders hunched against the sound of Miranda calling out to her, Andy tried to figure out what to do next. She couldn't go back to _Runway _anymore. As painful as being near Miranda every day had been the past few days, it would be infinitely worse knowing that Miranda really didn't care for her after all. Right now she couldn't even conceive of being in the same city. She could…she'd just go home, back to Ohio. Miranda really wasn't any different than her mother or Lily. Andy would never forget that again. She'd call Seven and give her a verbal resignation to relay to Miranda and email a written copy to HR. Maybe there would be a flight out tonight or tomorrow morning. Andy no longer cared about the effects on the future. There was no proof that any of this was true except Miranda's word, and that was no longer good enough.

As Miranda accepted James' hand to rise from the back seat, she looked up and her heart lurched in her chest. _Andréa._ _But why was she here? Andréa was here._ She bypassed James to get to her lover, only to have Andy slip around her and hurry away without a word. "Andréa," Miranda called after her. When she received no response, she looked up at her children. Cassidy wore a defeated, sorrowful expression but Caroline…hers was full of gloating triumph, a look Miranda had often seen in her mirror after besting Irv yet again. _Oh, Caroline, what have you done?_

Miranda shoved her clutch and wrap into James' hands and started after Andy. Five steps were enough to tell her she'd never catch Andy in the heels she was wearing. Unwilling to admit defeat, Miranda kicked them off and began to run after her lover, who still moved with a stride that took full advantage of her long legs. She ignored James' concerned cry, "Miranda!" and Cassidy's encouraging, "Go, Mom!", but she clearly heard Caroline's enraged, "No!" She and that young lady were going to have a serious talk, and the severity of her daughter's punishment rested entirely on Miranda's ability to catch Andréa. Miranda hiked up her skirt past her knees and rose up on her toes to sprint after her love, calling out for Andréa to wait for her.

Behind her, Miranda could hear the thud of a man's shoes hurrying to catch up and the lighter tread of her daughter's feet pounding behind him. She didn't have time to wait for them, pushing herself to go faster, running as if for her life, which she was. Her life was getting away from her, and Miranda could not allow it to happen. She prayed that Andréa would stick with her stiff-legged walk and not begin to run herself. Miranda didn't spare a thought for what her stocking-clad feet might be coming into contact with. Nothing was as important as reaching Andréa.

She reached out, grabbing at the back of the white trench Andréa wore. "Stop! Please, Andréa, stop!" she pleaded between gasping breaths. She pulled her lover around and clung to her, panting and fighting for breath. "Wha-whatever…Caroline...said…not true," she wheezed. Andy stood like a stone within her embrace, refusing to meet her eyes. Desperate, Miranda grasped her face and forced Andy's lips to hers. She searched Andy's mouth, looking for any hint of a response.

Andy tore herself from Miranda's arms. "You're no different than them. You got what you wanted and moved on. Kindly let me do the same," Andy said in cold tones.

"Who are _them_, Andréa? Who are you speaking of?" Miranda asked, desperate to know what Andy was referring to.

"My mother," Andy spat the words as if they had a foul taste. "And my so-called best friend Lily. They supposedly loved me, too. Right up until they walked away when I didn't live up to what they wanted from me. You're no different, Miranda. You couldn't even wait a few days before you moved on."

"Andréa, I haven't gone anywhere. I've been just as unhappy and frustrated as you've been, but I've been right here. Praying for this to be over with so I can have you back where you belong, in my arms," Miranda sought to reassure her lover, but she could tell she wasn't getting through.

"Then who's that?" Andy snapped pointing to James, who had just reached them. "And why were you on a date with him?"

"Andréa, meet James, my ex-brother-in-law, the girls' uncle. I had dinner with James tonight because I thought he might be able to give me some advice on how to stay sane in this situation. James' lover is in the diplomatic service and extremely closeted. They can't just be together for various reasons," Miranda explained. "It was not a date. It was just dinner with a friend. And, believe me, Caroline will regret her lie." Miranda looked over Andy's shoulder and glared at her daughter, the look promising severe consequences. "Come back to the house, and tell me why you are here, Darling?"

"No, I-I'm done here." Andy turned had continued on her journey to the subway.

"Who's walking away now, Andréa? I'm right here, and you're running. It isn't I who am acting like _them_," Miranda said, raising her voice to carry the distance. She watched as Andy stopped, her back stiffening. "Is this how it will be, Andréa? You running every time things become difficult? If you've learned nothing from them except how to run, then keep going because you're not the woman either of us thought you were." Her eyes bore into that board-straight back, willing Andréa to come back to her.

"Harsh, Miranda," James murmured, having come to stand behind her.

"I'm fighting for my life, James," Miranda snapped. "Don't expect me to do so with lace gloves and gentle words."

Andy took a tentative step forward and then stopped again. She bowed her head as if deep in thought, shoulders slumping. She stood in that pose a moment longer and then raised her head, straightening her shoulders. As she started to turn, a man stepped from a nearby doorway and spoke to her in a low voice. Andy's head jerked around, and she stumbled back a step.

"Grab him, James!" Miranda hissed. "He's the cause of all this!"

Before James could move, Seven materialized as if from nowhere and threw an arm around his neck, grabbing one arm and twisting it behind his back. Miranda ran forward, reaching them just as Janeway stepped out of the alley near them all.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," Janeway warned the struggling man in her raspy voice. "I believe you remember Seven and exactly what she's capable of."

Seven forced the man's hand higher up his back in example.

"No! I mean, yes, I remember Seven of Nine very well," he gasped in a pain-filled voice. "Further use of force won't be necessary. I won't attempt to get away. You have my word as a Starfleet officer."

"But you're not an officer any longer, are you?" Janeway mocked.

"Oh, but I am, Captain. I was re-instated," he assured her.

Janeway hesitated a moment, and then gave Seven a nod to release him.

He straightened his jacket and clasped his hands behind his back. "Hello, Captain Janeway. Hello, Seven of Nine. I don't believe I know your friends."

"Hello, Braxton," Janeway growled. "And you're a hell of a liar."


	32. Chapter 30

Braxton gave Janeway an affable smile. "But I'm not lying, Captain. I haven't met these lovely people. Perhaps you'd do the honors and introduce me."

Janeway took a step forward, clenching her fists. "My experience with you says otherwise," she snarled.

"Kathryn," Andy spoke up. "That's not the guy. I've never seen this man before. That's why he startled me when he spoke to me."

"What did he say to you, Andréa?" Miranda asked, laying a hand tentatively on her lover's forearm.

"He told me to go back to you and not let the past control the future," Andy admitted, laying her hand over Miranda's.

"That doesn't sound like the man that's been stalking Andréa," Miranda observed.

"No, it doesn't," Janeway agreed. Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave him a level gaze. "Talk fast, Braxton. Seven takes a dim view of people who try to end my existence. I'm sure she'd appreciate a few moments alone with you."

"May I suggest we at least take this off the street?" Braxton asked, still smiling genially.

"Miranda, do you need help?" James inquired as he walked up beside her.

"James, would you please take the girls back to the townhouse and instruct them to begin their homework? I'll be fine. Don't worry. I'll call you as soon as I can," Miranda reassured him. They exchanged true kisses on the cheek before he gathered the girls to begin the walk back to their home, Cassidy clearly protesting even as she went along. Miranda turned back to the others and reached out to clasp Andy's hand in her own. "Kathryn, I believe you said you had a place we could talk safely. I would suggest we go there to have this discussion."

Janeway pulled her hand-held unit from her pocket and pressed a button on it. "B'Elanna, five to beam up."

Miranda felt Andy's hand tighten on hers as a strange tingling sensation like nothing she had ever felt before invaded her body. When next she registered her surroundings, they all appeared to be standing in a small storage room of some type. Other than a prevalence of metal, she recognized little save two racks of bunks against one wall.

"The cargo bay of the Delta Flyer, I presume," Braxton said. "And you would be B'Elanna Torres." He nodded to B'Elanna, who stood near the doorway armed with a phaser trained on his chest. He turned to the remaining two women in the room. "So that would make you Andrea Sachs and Miranda Priestly. I've been studying you quite avidly, Ms. Priestly. I can see where Captain Janeway gets her tenacity and command presence."

Miranda gave a single elegant nod in agreement of his assessment.

"So if you're not our mystery man, who is?" Janeway snapped in an exasperated tone.

Braxton shook his head and rocked back on his heels. "Now that, I don't know the answer to," he admitted. "I had hoped to flush him out when I sent Ms. Sachs back to where she belonged." He smiled at the two women he referred to.

"I thought that was where Andy was going," Janeway said. "Why were you leaving again?"

Miranda tightened her grip, signaling Andy to let her handle the question. "We had a brief misunderstanding, and Andréa felt the need for a breath of fresh air."

"And you always chase her down the street in your stocking feet when she's out for air?" Janeway asked in an amused tone.

Miranda looked down at her bare feet and blushed faintly. Then, adopting her mantle of Dragon Lady, she straightened and glared in an icily negligent manner at Janeway. "Do you not have more important concerns, Kathryn? Or do the advancing centuries deteriorate the familial genetic sequencing for intelligence?" she asked disdainfully.

"Oh, yes, you two are definitely related," Braxton chuckled. "No wonder you're always getting into trouble, Janeway."

"I am not always getting into tr…" Janeway started to object and then sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We meet far too often, Braxton," she admitted.

"For someone who professes to hate time travel, it amuses me to know there's a taskforce designated to track your trips through time," he chuckled in wry amusement.

"A taskforce?" Miranda asked, amazed and then turned her gaze to Janeway. "Well done, Kathryn. I must say I'm impressed."

"Thanks, _Granma_. I'm sure I'm just a chip off the old block," Janeway quipped with a smirk.

"You people should just be glad Miranda can't travel through time," Andy laughed. "Forget the taskforce. You'd need a division."

"I'm thrilled I can provide you all with unlimited amusement," Miranda said, pursing her lips. "Could we perhaps get on with a solution to finding this madman? And, Kathryn, if you ever refer to me as _Granma _again, I will create a paradox by forbidding Caroline to ever have children." Miranda gave her a warning look.

"Grand'Mere?" Kathryn asked.

Miranda gave a grudging nod and then rolled her eyes as Andy grinned. It was evident she'd have to decide these things eventually as Caroline would obviously be having at least one child. Now, seemed as good a time as any. "A solution?" she asked, deflecting them back to the issue at hand.

"He's using some type of device to mask his signature," Braxton informed them. "So I've been unable to track him by the regular means of locating a temporal distortion."

"You can do that now?" Janeway asked.

"Well, someone evidently can and Starfleet is very interested in knowing who, as well as how he's doing it," Braxton answered.

"All right, so how do we catch him?" Andy asked. "I'd like to just _be_ with Miranda, without all this drama."

Miranda slipped an arm around her waist and hugged Andy to her side. "It might work better if you turned in your running shoes," she advised with a pointed look at Andy's sneakers. She gave a soft squeak when Andy elbowed her lightly.

"I think you were on the right track," Braxton said. "We should send these two home and keep an eye out."

"I find it difficult to believe it will be that simple," Seven commented. "He has proven to be manipulative and subtle."

"Do you play chess, Seven?" Braxton asked.

"I am unfamiliar with this game," Seven admitted.

"There's a very simple tactic in chess known as deflection. It's when one player forces an opposing piece to leave the position it occupies, thereby exposing the king or another valuable piece. I think this is what's been going on. By deflecting Ms. Sachs from her decided path, he's exposed Ms. Priestly," Braxton explained.

"Not Miranda," Janeway disagreed. "Her daughter, Caroline."

Braxton nodded. "Then he's even more subtle than I believed. I would have thought the intended target would be Ms. Priestly. If I'd gotten him sooner, we might never have realized his plan. Can you correct the damage?"

"Andréa and I will be addressing that as soon as we return home," Miranda assured him.

"Then I suggest we all get into position. He may have seen us, though I threw a dampening field around Ms. Sachs the moment she left her apartment. I believe it worked since he didn't attempt to interfere prior to her reaching your townhouse. That's why I felt it was safe to speak with you myself, Ms. Sachs." He turned his attention to Janeway. "I say we get into position and beam these two ladies back to where we all met. I'll remove the dampening field, and we'll keep an eye on them as they walk back to the townhouse. If Caroline is his target, he's more likely to make contact before you have a chance to have that talk with her."

"But will he approach me if I'm with Miranda? Isn't he more likely to do so if I'm alone?" Andy asked.

Miranda's heart lurched. "No, Andréa. I will not have you out there alone."

"My choice, Miranda, remember?"

"I don't like it," Miranda stated emphatically.

"But she's right, Miranda," Janeway said with a sigh. "We'll send Andy back to the point from where we beamed out and you to the townhouse. With luck, we'll have him before she reaches your house and this will all be over for the two of you."

"You sound like it won't be over for you as well, Janeway," Braxton commented with a frown.

"We passed our window of opportunity to get back to Voyager. We're permanent residents of the twenty-first century now," Janeway replied, frowning at the situation they were in.

"Though better than the twentieth century where I ended up stranded, I wouldn't recommend it. _Relativity_ is cloaked and in orbit as we speak. Your shuttle should fit nicely in our docking bay. I'd be more than happy to escort you ladies back to _Voyager_ when this is over," Braxton offered magnanimously.

"And we'll take you up on that offer," Janeway assured him with a relieved smile. "Let's get to it then, people. I for one am ready to go home, though I will miss the coffee."

Miranda exchanged a look with Seven and smiled. It was a sentiment with which she could readily agree.

Moments later, Andy found herself walking down the sidewalk toward Miranda's townhouse. Her heart was pounding as she tried not to jump at every sound. She wanted so badly for this all to be over and to hold Miranda again. Glancing up she could see a figure silhouetted in a third floor window of the townhouse. _Miranda._ Fixating on that image, Andy felt her heartbeat slow. Miranda was waiting for her. Her steps picked up and took on a jaunty sway as she unconsciously began to strut for the woman she adored above all others. Arms swinging, Andy began to grin the same enormous grin she'd worn when approaching the townhouse earlier that night. Whatever else happened, Miranda was waiting and that was the most thrilling thought Andy could have.

"Well, you seem quite pleased tonight." A voice came out of the darkness and Andy stopped, turning slightly to face the man who stepped from the shadows. Only this time he brandished a weapon similar to the one B'Elanna had held in the cargo bay. "I'm afraid I can't allow you to complete your journey. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this."

"You won't keep me from Miranda," Andy stated levelly.

"Oh, but I think I will," he said with a cold smile that sent a shiver up Andy's spine.

"That is incorrect," Seven said as she stepped from the darkness and, reaching for his hand, crushed the weapon and the hand holding it. He fell to the ground screaming, and Seven stood over him, arching an eyebrow as she stared down at him. "Threatening my friends displeases me."

"Glad I'm your friend," Andy muttered, unable to believe what she'd just seen. She'd heard Kathryn threaten Braxton with leaving him alone with Seven. At the time she hadn't thought much of it, but now she was aware of what a frightening prospect that was to someone who had prior experience with the tall blonde.

"Who is it?" Janeway asked, moving into the light.

Seven squatted and rolled the man onto his back.

"Ducane." Braxton stated with a shake of his head. "What were you thinking, man? You brought _me_ in."

Holding his wounded hand against his chest, Ducane stared up at them. "Do you realize the resources wasted on a task force to keep track of this woman's incursions? And it doesn't stop with her! Her damned brats…"

"Shut up," Braxton snapped. "You're in enough trouble already. Don't add to it by violating the Temporal Prime Directive more than you already have." Hauling Ducane to his feet, Braxton handed Janeway a small device. "When you're ready to leave, press the button, and we'll relay a signal to your shuttle so you can find us." He tapped the communicator pinned to the underside of his jacket lapel. "Two to beam up." The two men vanished in a swirl of light.

"It's actually over?" Andy asked, feeling a little stunned by the events of the last few moments.

"It's over," Janeway reassured her with a smile.

"You'll come to the house? Miranda will want to say goodbye before you go."

"We'll stop by tomorrow," Janeway said. "It's not finished until things are straightened out with Caroline. My existence is still threatened until that happens, though I'm feeling more myself now, so I think the odds are in our favor."

"You're sure," Andy asked.

Seven looked down the block. "You should go, Six. Miranda Priestly appears impatient for your return. She is standing on the sidewalk, waiting."

Andy followed Seven's gaze but could make out little in the shadows cast by the trees lining the street. "You can see that?" she asked Seven, astonished at her visual acuity.

"My Seven is quite amazing," Janeway smiled, taking Seven's arm. "Now go on. I can assure you the women in my family hate waiting."

"Tomorrow then. Good night," Andy said and broke into a run, following her heart home.


	33. Chapter 31

"I am very upset with you, Caroline. I have no idea what you thought you would accomplish by lying to Andréa," Miranda said in a cold tone. She stood over her daughter who sat on the couch, slumped in a petulant pose.

Cassidy occupied the opposite end of the couch and glared at her sister, nodding agreement with their mother's words. Miranda knew that not having her sister's support was making the entire situation even more difficult for Caroline but she needed to learn that her actions had far-reaching consequences. Miranda glanced over at Andy, who stood leaning against the side of an easy chair, hands thrust deeply into the pockets of her trench coat. She had not been able to convince Andy to remove the coat, which had only added to Miranda's irritation.

Turning her attention back to Caroline, Miranda snapped, "I would like an explanation."

Caroline mumbled something into her chest, refusing to meet her mother's eyes.

"I would much prefer being able to hear you, Caroline. Sit up this instant and speak coherently." Miranda crossed her arms and tapped her toe impatiently. It was an attitude she only adopted with her children when they had pushed her to the end of her patience. Both girls were well aware of the signs and what they meant, so Miranda wasn't surprised when Caroline immediate shift to sit in an appropriate manner.

"I knew she'd leave just like everyone else. I didn't see any reason to drag it out," Caroline huffed, crossing her arms in an exact duplication of her mother's stance.

Aware of Andréa shifting uncomfortably just out of her view, Miranda sighed. "Caroline, given the situation Andréa thought she was in thanks to your lying, she did the most logical thing. I would have done the same, as I have no doubt you would have as well if you found yourself in these circumstances. It would have been horribly uncomfortable for everyone involved had I indeed been on a date so soon after expressing my feelings to Andréa. I, too, would have wanted time to decide upon the best course of action. And if I had been out with someone else and had, in fact, violated her trust Andréa would have had every right to walk away from me. What you have done is reprehensible, Caroline."

"So what, you're suddenly going to let the whole world know you're a dyke? You don't date women, Mom," Caroline launched back. "You don't even do a very good job with dating men. How long until you drive her away, too? I mean, Cass and I are stuck with you ignoring us, but other people aren't. They get to leave and find someone who remembers they exist. We can't do that. Dad's even worse than you are." Large tears were welling in Caroline's blue eyes by the time she had finished.

Stunned, Miranda took a step toward the chair Andy was leaning against and dropped into it. She was aware of Andy's hand coming to rest on her shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. Miranda reached up and placed her hand over the one touching her, needing it to ground her in the moment. She had ached for Andy's pain at the treatment she had received from her mother and best friend, while all along she had been doing something quite similar to her own children. While Andy's perceived desertion had not helped the situation, it was Miranda's own benign neglect that had changed the future, and without Andy in her life to provide a reason to bring a balance between her work and home life her girls had never had the chance to see that a woman could have success in both arenas. Caroline might have been the target, but Miranda was the weapon and Andy the only defense.

Her devastation must have been apparent because both her daughters ran to her but stopped just short of reaching her. It only added to the ache in Miranda's heart that they were so hesitant to spontaneously show affection for their mother. She opened her arms, reaching out and pulling them into her lap. They were heavy, no longer toddlers, but Miranda didn't care. They were her babies, and she loved them dearly.

"I cannot promise you that Andréa will never leave us. No one can know the future," Miranda spoke softly to them. She pushed thoughts of Kathryn and her team from her mind. Knowing would only cause her to test the limits, Miranda knew herself at least that well. "I can promise you that she has no intention of doing so, and I will do everything in my power to never cause her to have reason to reconsider. We, all of us, have to give each other a chance, Bobbsies."

"Kinda hard to believe she wants to stay when she won't even take off her coat," Caroline mumbled into her mother's chest.

Miranda looked up as Andy cleared her throat and began to turn a deep shade of red.

"Ummm, it's not that I don't want to take it off," Andy said, fidgeting with the belt of her coat. "I can't."

"I'm quite sure you have the ability to remove a coat, Andréa," Miranda said, frowning slightly.

"Well, not that I can't because I'm not able," Andy hedged. "I, uh, well, I-I was kinda in bed when Seven called and said it would be okay for me to see you, and it had been so long…well…I just threw on a coat and shoes and rushed over. I'm not actually dressed under this. Not for being in public, anyway."

All three Priestlys turned to stare at her wide-eyed.

"You mean you're naked?" Cassidy squeaked.

"No!" Andy exclaimed, blushing even harder. "I've got on my pjs."

"If you're going to marry our mom, I think we'll see you in your pajamas eventually," Caroline scoffed. "Are they like full of holes or something?" She looked at Andy accusingly.

Miranda smirked. Caroline was most definitely her child.

"Andréa, what exactly are you wearing?" Miranda asked, hoping to simplify things.

"Shorts and a shirt."

Miranda knew it couldn't be that simple. Andy would not be so embarrassed by slightly shabby clothing.

"It's okay if they're not designer labels," Cassidy tried to reassure Andy.

"It's not that, squirt," Andy grinned shyly. "I get really hot when I sleep, so they're kinda skimpy. If I'd stopped to think about it, I would have changed, but I was just so excited to finally be able to see Miranda outside of work that I didn't think about anything except getting here."

"Skimpy?" Miranda repeated, swallowing against a suddenly dry throat.

"Well, yeah. Spanks and a belly shirt skimpy," Andy enlightened her.

Miranda could feel her own face heating up. Her girls had been visiting her at _Runway_ and on shoots since they were infants, so they weren't unused to women in lingerie. By those standards Andy was decently clothed. What they were not used to seeing, however, was their mother drooling over a woman so clad. Miranda fought to keep her expression neutral.

"We're all girls here, Andy," Caroline said in a tone that was much like her mother's when Miranda lectured someone. "I doubt you'll embarrass any of us. If that's what you wear to sleep in, then you might as well get used to wearing it around us. I don't think Mom is going to be real happy with you sleeping halfway across the city for the rest of your life."

Miranda couldn't resist smirking at that comment. If she had her way, all of Andy's sleeping would be done under this roof from this night forward. She nodded encouragingly to Andy who, with a sigh began unbuttoning her coat. Miranda was an adult, a mature woman, not a hormone-ridden teenager. She was quite capable of controlling her reactions in front of her children. Or perhaps not. As Andy's coat slid from her shoulders, Miranda quickly rethought the situation.

"Wow," Cassidy gasped which only caused Andy to blush a deeper red and Miranda to clear her throat. Cassidy gave first her sister and then her mother a triumphant look. "I _told_ you she wasn't fat," she said to Caroline, then turned to her mother. "You done good, Mom," she grinned cheekily.

"Yes, it would appear I have," Miranda responded before she could think better of it. She was much too busy staring at the miles of bare leg and tight abs before her. The one night they had spent together, she had not stopped to truly appraise her lover's assets.

"Okay, she's not fat," Caroline conceded grudgingly.

"I'm still here, guys," Andy objected. "And I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop staring at me."

"Get used to it," Cassidy grinned mischievously. "You're dating Miranda Priestly now. People are going to stare a lot."

"Oh, great." Andy rolled her eyes. "That'll be fun." Sarcasm fairly dripped from her tone.

Caroline sniffed. "You're a lot younger than Mom. You know what people are going to think. If you can't take it, run now before I actually start to like you again."

Andy dropped her coat and came to kneel at Miranda's feet. She looked directly at Caroline as she spoke. "I know what it's like when people who are supposed to love you just walk off and you never see them again. I won't do that to you guys," Andy promised. "Your mom and I may not make a go of this, but we _are_ going to try. Even if we don't make it, though, I'm still going to be your friend. I'll still be there for you and Cass. And I'll be honest, Miranda and I will stand a better chance of making this work if we have both of you on our side. We can't be a family unless we're _all_ a family. So what do you say? You willing to take a chance with us, Caro?"

Miranda could feel the tension in Caroline's body where it was still pressed against her side, then slowly she began to relax.

"Yes," Caroline nodded. "Just no more running off, okay?"

"Deal," Andy agreed, her megawatt smile bursting forth.

In a moment, the twins were in Andy's arms, and Miranda watched as the three rolled on the floor, giggling and laughing. She though it the most glorious sound she had ever heard.

Janeway shifted restlessly on her bunk, fighting with the covers that seemed to want to place a strangle hold on her legs. She had been trying futilely to sleep for the last two hours and had only succeeded in becoming frustrated with the effort. Flopping over on her side, she wasn't surprised to see Seven sitting at the small mess table at the head of the cargo bay. Janeway could barely make out her figure in the dim light, but Seven seemed to be reading intently, though Kathryn couldn't discern the reading material.

"Seven," Janeway murmured not wanting to disturb B'Elanna and knowing Seven could hear the softest of sounds. "I thought you were going to regenerate."

"I have done so, Kathryn," Seven replied, still distracted by her reading.

"Not long enough, though," Janeway admonished.

"I am not fatigued," Seven denied. "Are you unable to sleep? Can I be of assistance?" Seven rose from the table and crossed the space to kneel next to Janeway's bunk.

"Just thinking about Miranda and Andy. They came very close to losing each other completely," Janeway mused, sighing.

Seven nodded and gave her tiny smile. "We will not behave in a similar fashion, Kathryn. I will not allow it."

"Oh, you won't allow it?" Janeway chuckled. "No, I don't suppose you will." She reached out and rested her palm against Seven's cheek. "I love you, Seven of Nine."

"And I love you, Kathryn Janeway," Seven responded immediately. "Now you must regenerate. Please move to the back of the bunk."

"What are you going to do, Seven?" Janeway asked, eyes widening. She glanced fleetingly towards the bunk where B'Elanna slept.

"I am going to hold you, Kathryn," Seven replied levelly.

"This bunk is rather narrow," Janeway objected.

"Which is why I will only be holding you."

"Seven…" Janeway began to voice her objection again.

"Let her in the bunk already," B'Elanna's voice interrupted her. "I'd like to get some sleep, too, which I can't do with you rolling around or both of you talking….Captain…ma'am."

"Aye-aye, Lieutenant," Janeway chuckled, sliding over to make room for Seven.

Within moments she was wrapped in Seven's long arms and breathed a sigh as she felt her body relaxing instantly. She was drifting on the edge of sleep when Seven spoke quietly.

"Kathryn, what did Ducane mean by his reference to your _brats_?"

"_Brats_ is a somewhat derogatory word used to refer to children," Janeway replied yawning.

Seven was silent for a few moments and Janeway once again began to slip into sleep only to be roused again.

"You will be having children," Seven stated in emotionless Borg-like tones. "I cannot give you children, Kathryn. It is only logical to conclude that you will not stay with me. It would be best if we do not continue this relationship."

Janeway sat up as far as the overhead bunk would allow and looked down at her love. "Seven, slow down. You're jumping to conclusions. It is entirely possible for us to have children together; you know that. Even if neither of us becomes pregnant, we can always adopt if we want them. There are a lot of ways for these things to work out. I love you and have no intention of losing you so you can just stop that line of thought right now. Is having a little faith in me, in _us_, asking too much of you?"

"I am Borg," Seven stated with her usual confidence as if that answered all questions.

"You're _my_ Borg and I'm keeping you," Janeway said with a gentle kiss. "Now may we please get some sleep? I really am exhausted, Darling."

"Yes, Kathryn," Seven replied.

Janeway snuggled back into Seven's arms and rested her head on a slender shoulder. Wrapping an arm around Seven's waist, she hugged her close. "Do you want children, Seven?" she asked sleepily.

"I do not know, Kathryn. I had not thought of that possibility," Seven admitted. "Are they required for a relationship to succeed?"

"No, Darling. Not required, though some women never feel quite complete without them," came the drowsy reply.

"Six wanted children. She regretted never being able to have one with Miranda," Seven commented seemingly moving off onto a tangent.

"Ovafusion wasn't available in this century, and lesbians often had difficulty in adopting, though Miranda is influential enough to get around that I suppose. Assuming Andy ever mentioned it to her," Janeway said, rubbing her cheek around to get more comfortable.

"She did not. At least, she did not say she had in her journal."

"Then maybe Miranda never knew. Sleep now, Seven," Janeway mumbled as sank into the depths.

The next afternoon Janeway and Seven beamed into Miranda's study while B'Elanna went to _Runway_ to make sure they had left nothing behind that would contaminate the timeline any more than they already had. Janeway had called Miranda earlier to let her know how they would be arriving and when, so that the twins would not receive a startling surprise.

"Kathryn, Seven, hello," Miranda greeted them. Andréa told me what happened last night. I'm very glad that madman was taken into custody. I hope things have returned to normal for you."

"I woke up this morning feeling more like myself than I have since this thing began. I take it your talk with Caroline went well?" Janeway said smiling.

"Very much so, though she's quite upset over her punishment. She is grounded for the next month, and her free time will consist of assisting Andréa with various projects. I've always wanted more elaborate landscaping in the backyard but had been waiting until the children were a bit older. It seems Andréa enjoys gardening. A little one-on-one time will do them good, I think. Now they will have it," Miranda's smile was almost evil.

Janeway laughed. "I'll have to keep that in mind the next time I have to handle a crew issue. It's practically diabolical."

"Yes. I never claimed not to have come by the sobriquet of Dragon Lady honestly," Miranda returned with a chuckle.

"You should be proud of both your girls, Miranda. Without going into detail, they're going to do amazing things."

Miranda nodded, her expression that of a mother who believes her children will accomplish anything they set out to do. "I have no doubt. It appears to run in the family," she said graciously, but couldn't resist adding, "I do hope they don't end up with their own taskforce, however."

Janeway barked a laugh. "If they do, they'll probably be in charge of it."

"Andréa and the girls have prepared a light meal. They were hoping you'd stay and eat with us."

"I'd like that. Seven?" Janeway turned to her.

"That would be pleasant," Seven responded.

"Then if you'll follow me to the dining room…" Miranda said, turning to lead the way.

The meal was light and festive. Even Caroline had shaken off her bad mood to engage in the lively conversation and laughter. Janeway provided carefully edited tales of some of the more amusing events from her travels, while Miranda kept them all in stitches over various behind the scenes happenings in the fashion world. The rest of the afternoon was spent playing games with the girls and discussing various aspects of literature and music. Janeway realized she was skirting the intent of the Temporal Prime Directive if not the letter of it, but she was truly fascinated by her ancestor. Miranda was a formidable woman who was in all probability the most influential woman of her era, her reach going far beyond the fashion industry. Janeway noticed Seven deep in conversation with Miranda at one point, and a short time later, she was speaking with Andy in a corner of the room. Each of the women disappeared for a short time afterwards, but there was nothing in those activities to disturb her.

Finally, it came time to say goodbye, accomplished with many hugs and more than one pair of eyes gleaming with tears.

"You're an amazing woman," Janeway told Miranda. "I'm honored to have you as an ancestor, Grand'Mere." She grinned unrepentantly

"I'm as proud to have met you as I am of you, Kathryn. I wish I knew your future to reassure you that you would indeed get home, but somehow I think you'll do so on your own initiative. We Priestlys are nothing if not determined," Miranda said, placing a gentle hand on Janeway's cheek. "Take care of Seven. I don't believe you'll ever find anyone else quite like her."

"I know I won't," Janeway admitted, covering the hand on her face with hers. "And you hang on to Andy. She's going to change your life in ways you can't even imagine."

"I have no doubt," Miranda agreed.

Janeway and Seven, at last, took their leave, beaming out from the study and onto the Delta Flyer. It was time to get back to their lives, and Janeway couldn't keep a mischievous smile from her face. If her crew thought she could melt duranium with her lectures before, they were in for a big surprise. She'd learned quite a few tricks from Miranda Priestly. The next time Tom Paris stepped out of line, he wasn't going to know what hit him.


	34. Epilogue

Seven of Nine strode through the corridors of Voyager intent on her destination. She was supposed to be meeting B'Elanna Torres in the mess hall and had been detained by a minor malfunction in Astrometrics. She had been surprised to find she quite enjoyed pinning the crewman responsible with an icy glare worthy of Miranda Priestly. Back on Voyager for less than a week, she had put it to good use on one previous occasion already. The repair had been completed in half the time under her feral look. She was still smirking as the doors of the mess hall slid open and she strode through, spotting B'Elanna at a nearby table.

"You look quite pleased with yourself," B'Elanna commented. "Practicing your Miranda glare again?"

"Indeed," Seven admitted. "I find it most helpful in improving the efficiency of the crew."

"Just don't overdo it. Wouldn't want it to lose its scare power," B'Elanna laughed.

"I use it selectively," Seven assured her.

They both looked up as Harry Kim hurried through one door, through the mess hall, and out the other door, the doctor hot on his heels.

"Harry?" B'Elanna asked, staring at Seven. "The doc is chasing Harry?"

"Yes, he found his evening with Nigel Kipling quite enlightening. He feels there is a 96.3 percent chance he can repeat the experience with Harry Kim," Seven explained.

"Must have been some night," B'Elanna laughed.

"Indeed. I do not believe the doctor will be painting nude portraits of me any longer."

"Good thing. The captain would have me reprogramming him as a eunuch if he tried that again."

Seven's lips curled in a soft smile. "Yes, Kathryn has proven to be quite possessive."

"And you like that," B'Elanna guessed.

Seven nodded with a dreamy look.

"So what did you want to talk about?" B'Elanna asked, her curiosity at why Seven had wanted to meet her apparent since B'Elanna knew Seven had a date with the captain that night.

Seven looked over B'Elanna's shoulder and gave a tiny smile. "There is someone I wish you to meet," Seven explained. Stepping to the side, she gently B'Elanna's arm and turned her around. "B'Elanna Torres, I would like you to meet Ensign Amanda Connelly." Her eyes gleamed with mirth as she watched B'Elanna's eyes widen as they met the deep brown gaze of Mandy Connelly. Seven leaned over and spoke quietly into B'Elanna's ear. "Six had a brother. I find the resemblance quite interesting." Eyes gleaming with laughter, though she gave no outward appearance, Seven nudged B'Elanna, who seemed struck dumb by the beautiful ensign. "I will leave you to talk. I have a date this evening," Seven said.

"With the captain?" Mandy asked with a megawatt smile. "You're seeing a lot of her, Seven."

"I have hopes to see more of her, Mandy Connelly," Seven said with a twinkle in her eye.

Mandy laughed. "I'm sure you do. Enjoy your date, Seven. Maybe I can convince Lieutenant Torres to join me for a drink at Sandrine's." She turned her glowing smile on B'Elanna.

"Drink? Yeah. Love to," B'Elanna responded disjointedly.

"Bye, Seven," Mandy called merrily as she took B'Elanna's arm and escorted her from the mess hall.

Smiling to herself, Seven hurried off to keep her own date.

Miranda was exhausted. She was pushing her staff hard to complete the issue by the print deadline, more determined than ever to pack as much into the day as possible so that she could get home to her family at a reasonable hour. Miranda had notified the one person in Human Resources who she trusted of her new relationship with Andy, and transferred her lover immediately to editorial so she would no longer be Andy's direct supervisor. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it would do for the moment until Andy decided exactly what she wanted to do next. Miranda would not make the mistake of attempting to decide for her. Having been adamant to make her own decision about capturing a potentially dangerous criminal, Andy would not welcome interference from Miranda in determining the path her career would follow. So far their nights have been too filled with lovemaking to waste time on that conversation; however, Miranda knew it would come soon enough.

She let herself in the door of the townhouse and had barely managed to put away her coat when she was blitzed by two smiling redheads.

"You're home!" Cassidy exclaimed excitedly.

"That's three weeks in a row," Caroline crowed with glee.

"I promised, did I not?" Miranda smiled, returning their hugs. "We will eat our evening meals together if at all possible. I did bring home some work I need to take care of later, but that can wait until after your bedtime. Where is Andréa?" She looked around, having become used to being greeted by her lover each night as well since Andy usually finished work before she did, often bringing things home herself. Andy had developed the habit of curling in the corner of the couch in Miranda's study and completing assignments for _Runway _on her laptop as Miranda worked at the desk. That they were together was all Andy professed to care about.

"She's lying down," Cassidy answered her question. "She was really tired when she got home. I think she might be sick, too. She didn't look so good." Worried blue eyes begged her mother for reassurance.

"You should check on her, Mom," Caroline encouraged.

Miranda smiled, running a hand over each head of silky, red hair. Caroline was trying to put the past behind her. She really did care for Andy and was never successful in hiding that fact from those who knew her best.

"I will, Bobbsey. Please check and see when dinner will be ready? We'll be down momentarily," Miranda assured them before climbing the stairs to her bedroom.

She let herself into the darkened room and could just make out the form of Andy lying on the bed. Crossing the room, she sat on the side of the bed and rested a hand on a pale forehead. "Are you all right, Darling? The girls said you were sick. They're quite concerned."

"I'm fine," Andy sighed. "Just tired and really nauseous. I don't think I want anything to eat right now."

Miranda nodded and brushed the backs of her fingers against a soft cheek. "It won't hurt to skip one meal," she agreed concerned that her lover was ill. She was shocked as tears welled in Andy's eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

"You think I'm fat," Andy wailed, rolling away.

Eyes wide, Miranda stared at her, while trying to figure out what had just happened. "Andréa, I think no such thing. You're perfect, Darling. I adore your body. You know that."

"But it wouldn't hurt me to miss a few meals, right?" Andy sobbed into her pillow.

"I didn't mean that," Miranda hurried to explain. "I was just concerned for your health. Missing more than a single meal might make you feel worse rather than better."

"Really?" Andy asked, sniffling.

"Of course. You know I love you, Andréa," Miranda assured her. "Please tell me, what's wrong? Why are you so upset?"

Andy rolled back toward her and curled around Miranda's body, laying her head in Miranda's lap. "I don't know. It started earlier today. I just can't seem to control my emotions. I cry over nothing. I've been nauseous all week. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Miranda sat as if turned to stone. It wasn't really possible, was it? Seven has assured them it would work, but Miranda had still had her doubts. "Andréa, it's been three weeks since Kathryn and Seven left? Do you suppose…?" Miranda left the question unasked.

Andy looked up at her with wide eyes. "Oh, wow. I didn't even think of that. I haven't… We've been so busy, it didn't even occur to me. I should take a test or something, right?"

Miranda threaded her fingers through long, dark hair in a soothing gesture. "I believe I'll have Emily fetch one," she said with an evil smirk.

Andy hid her face in Miranda's lap, giggling hysterically. "You know," she gasped in a muffled voice, "that when this baby pops out with your eyes, looking just like you, Emily is going to be even more convinced you're a god, don't you?"

"Please, Andréa," Miranda sniffed. "A goddess."

"_My_ goddess," Andy said, rising up to capture soft lips with her own. "Wanna try for twins?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

"One will be quite sufficient," Miranda stated levelly. "Though we can practice as frequently as you wish."

"Yum," Andy murmured, pulling Miranda closer and beginning to kiss down the elegant column of her neck.

"I thought you were…ill," Miranda gasped, tilting her head to provide better access for her lover.

"It comes and goes," Andy muttered into soft flesh. She continued her journey down and across Miranda's collarbone. Suddenly, she froze and then scrambled around Miranda, dashing into the en suite. The sound of retching echoed a moment later.

_I have a feeling this is going to be the state of our sex life for a while longer,_ Miranda thought as she rose from the bed and followed to provide her love with assistance. _I'll simply have to make an honest woman of her._

Seven sat on the couch in Janeway's quarters, sipping a glass of sparkling cider. Running her fingertips over the silk skirt of her blue dress, she thought about the look on Janeway's face when she first answered the door that evening. She had asked Six several questions during their last conversation and the last advice she had received was to make the most of her natural assets. Remembering Janeway's openmouthed stare and fierce blush at the sight of her in this dress, Seven thought she had done well. She smiled as Janeway joined her, drinking from her own glass of white wine.

"Seven, there's something I'd like to talk to you about," Janeway began.

"Yes, Kathryn?"

"When our most recent adventure began, there were ten journals, then nine, and now there are eleven. You wouldn't happen to know who K.A. Priestly is, would you?" Janeway fixed her with a stern look.

"Kathryn Annika Priestly is the daughter of Six and Miranda Priestly," Seven supplied, flashing her tiny smile.

"Seven," Janeway growled in a disapproving tone. "What did you do?"

"I assisted Six in achieving that which she wanted most, Miranda Priestly's child," Seven explained. "You have evidently not read the journal, yet. I would suggest you do so."

"No, I've been too busy to read it and I don't have any memories of having done so before. You know you shouldn't have interfered with the timeline. If they were meant to have a child, they would have found a way to do so," Janeway admonished.

"Read the journal, Kathryn," Seven repeated.

"What's so special about that journal, Seven?" Janeway asked, pinching the bridge of her nose, her classic move when Seven's stubbornness was causing a headache to threaten.

"I was unable to pinpoint which of Miranda's children was your direct ancestor for a reason," Seven stated. "She had not been born, yet. Kathryn Priestly is your ancestor."

"Not Caroline?" Janeway asked with a frown. "But I thought when we continued to have symptoms after getting Miranda and Andy together that it was because Caroline was still so angry with Andy."

"Her acceptance of her mother's feelings for Six was necessary for them to have a successful relationship. But it was not the direct cause of the threat to your existence. Kathryn Priestly was born exactly when she was supposed to be born," Seven concluded confidently.

"A predestination paradox," Janeway said in astonishment.

"Yes," Seven agreed. "We were meant to go back and ensure the conception of your ancestor. It is also why, I believe, the Department of Temporal Investigations has not changed the outcome of our interference."

"_Your_ interference, you mean," Janeway chuckled. "I owe my life to you, Seven, quite literally."

"Then it is only correct that I wish to share it with you," observed Seven. She slid closer to Janeway. "I do not wish to wait any longer, Kathryn. The mission is over, we are back on _Voyager_, and the crew is aware and accepting of our relationship." Seven leaned over to place a soft kiss on Janeway's lips.

"You're sure?" Janeway asked between kisses. "I want you to be sure, Seven. I won't be able to give you up afterward."

"I do not say what I do not mean, Kathryn. Make love to me."

Janeway nodded and rose from the couch, taking Seven's hand and leading her into the bedroom. She couldn't stop the slight trembling in her hands. It wasn't her first time making love, but knowing that it was Seven's terrified her in a very basic way. Prior to this moment, Janeway's only experience with a woman was a rather unsuccessful fumbling with a schoolmate at the Academy.

"Kathryn, what is wrong?" Seven asked, concerned.

"Just a bit nervous, Seven," Janeway admitted. "I want your first time to be extraordinary, something you'll always remember fondly."

"I am with you. It cannot help but be extraordinary."

Janeway fought back a rush of tears at the earnest words. It was true for her as well. Just knowing that it was her Seven that she held would make it the greatest experience of her life. The deeply plunging neckline of Seven's dress had her fingers itching to get at the treasures beneath. Slipping her fingers behind Seven's neck she pulled their lips together. Tasting Seven's full lips was the high point of her day and something Janeway did as frequently as possible. She loved taking her time and sharing slow, deep, wet kisses with Seven. She ghosted her tongue under a pouty lower lip, answering Seven's soft moan with one of her own.

"Let's get you undressed," Janeway murmured, lowering the fastener of Seven's dress as far as she could reach while still kissing her. Separating their lips, she turned Seven and continued to lower the zipper, while her lips began to trace over the velvety skin she was revealing an inch at a time. She traced the star-shaped implant on Seven's shoulder with her tongue, smirking when her lover shivered in pleasure. "Sensitive?" she asked.

"Yes, Kathryn," Seven gasped.

"Mmmm," Janeway hummed, tracing around the points again, eliciting the same visceral reaction. Her fingers danced over the thin bands of Seven's abdominal implant. "You're so beautiful, Seven," she said and pushed the dress off her love's shoulders, unmindful of it dropping to the floor to pool around Seven's feet. Her hands slipped around and up, cupping full breasts as she dragged her tongue across a slender shoulder. Her forefingers traced over tight nipples, and Janeway smiled as they pebbled to her touch. She dropped her hands and hooked her fingers in silk lingerie pulling it over rounded hips and down long, well-formed legs. She assisted Seven in removing the last remaining clothing along with her shoes.

Janeway sat back on her heels, letting her eyes slowly travel up the length of Seven's back. "Turn around," she said hoarsely. She knew her swallow was audible to Seven as her eyes repeated the journey up the front. "You're exquisite," she managed. She couldn't help smiling as Seven had to lean over slightly to see her kneeling on the floor.

"Kathryn, I am still waiting," Seven informed her with a smirk.

"Not for much longer, Darling. Crawl on the bed, and I'll be right with you," Janeway promised, disrobing as quickly as she could manage. Her eyes remained trained on the sight of Seven lying on her side and watching. With the last article of clothing gone, Janeway joined her on the bed. A gentle touch on her shoulder encouraged Seven to roll onto her back, and Janeway followed, reveling in the feel of their first full-body contact of skin on skin. Their first kiss as lovers was more than Janeway could have imagined. The feel of Seven's body beneath her sent shivers chasing up and down her spine. She fell into the kiss, fell into Seven losing herself in the taste, smell, and heat of the woman she loved.

Janeway tasted every inch of exposed skin, learning what pleased Seven most. Fingers danced and teased until Seven was writhing and moaning from the sensations. She spent long moments sucking and licking rosy nipples as Seven's Borg hand tore through the bedding in her frenzy.

"Kathryn, please," Seven whimpered, hips moving randomly as if seeking something that was just out of reach.

"I'll take care of you, Darling," Janeway promised, slipping her fingers into silky heat and wetness. "You're so ready for me, Seven. I'm going to make you feel wonderful." She stroked and pinched lightly at the tight bundle of nerves between Seven's thighs, loving the sounds she was forcing from her lover's lips. She drove Seven to edge, only to slow her movements and pull her back again.

Seven's head whipped side to side as she undulated beneath Janeway's touch. "More," she gasped.

Humming softly to herself, Janeway slipped a single finger just inside Seven's tight opening, circling gently, teasing the sensitive nerve endings with slow, deliberate movements. "I'm going to make you come for me, Darling," Janeway murmured as she once more attacked a tender nipple with her mouth and pushed her finger in deeper, beginning a gentle thrusting.

Seven cried out and arched up into her hand, hips rising and falling to meet her thrusts.

Janeway eased her finger out only to re-enter Seven's core, this time with two fingers. Her movements became more deliberate as her thumb brushed repeatedly against Seven's clit. Janeway could feel internal muscles tightening around her fingers as her own center began to clench and release. She had never come simply by making love to someone else, but this time she knew she would. It would only be the beginning of many firsts with Seven. "Come for me, Seven. Come with me, my Love," Janeway mumbled around the nipple she held between her lips.

Seven arched from the bed, crying out Kathryn's name as her orgasm screamed through her body.

Janeway joined her, roaring her release until her throat was raw.

Long moments later, they lay in each other's arms basking in the warmth and peace that blanketed them. Fingers idly traced sweat-dampened skin as lips moved gently together. The feeling was quiet, intimate, unable to be improved by mere words. The love between them was tangible to both, a bond wrapping around them and holding them together…forever.

The End


End file.
